


Tying The Knot

by GlibbityGlop



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Alternate Universe - Reality Show, Blow Jobs, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Multi, Oral Knotting, Religious Swearing, the Hales are all still alive
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-09
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2019-10-07 00:04:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 72,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17355182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlibbityGlop/pseuds/GlibbityGlop
Summary: Stiles, an Omega, has been approached to star on 'Tying The Knot', a long-standing reality TV show pairing Alphas, Betas and Omegas together in the name of true love. Stiles has nothing going on right now and figures 'why not'.Pairings are tagged in alphabetical order as to not give spoilers. Additional pairings will be added as we go, in order to keep the mystery alive until after chapters are posted.





	1. Six Months Before Filming Starts

**Author's Note:**

> This is what happens when you watch a lot of UnReal while reading Teen Wolf fanfiction.

Now the thing to know is: Stiles would never in a million years apply to be on a show like Tying The Knot, a reality show where one Alpha or one Omega has to choose amongst a series of contestants, all Omegas or Alphas respectively, with some Betas thrown in to make up the numbers, to be their mate. The series ends with an Alpha proposing to an Omega, implying they will officially Mate once off the show. Tying The Knot, like any dating reality tv show, has a terrible track record. It has over 10 seasons, with one couple Mated and a second couple still together. Not great odds.

Tying The Knot isn't a show Stiles would typically even watch, but it's his dad's guilty pleasure, although his dad swears up and down that there's always nothing on tv and he needs background noise, or he's just flipped over during the ad break from what he's actually watching. Stiles has picked up enough from osmosis to know the gist of the show. He'll join his Dad to watch it just to ask his father how he knows all the names of the contestants if he isn't paying attention, as he claims. Some of the storylines are so trashy that they're good, and Stiles has found himself sucked in occasionally, sitting next to his dad while John curses or cheers depending on who the Suitor chooses for elimination. 

All this, and still Stiles' father freaked out when Stiles told him he'd been approached by a producer while at the shopping mall, and what's more, he was considering going on. Stiles' motor-mouth had picked up a conversation with the beautiful redhead behind him in line and after a short conversation Lydia had confirmed he was single and handed over her card. Stiles was 24. He had finished high school, gone to university. Had a small anxiety-induced breakdown, taken a semester off, gone back to university. Graduated. Applied for jobs, honing in on graduate programs for his specific degree, and been knocked back from all of them. He was on year two of living with his father, stuck in his hometown of Beacon Hills, while working part-time retail. Fuck yeah, he was considering reality tv at this point. 

“Think about it Dad, it'd be like a nation-wide job application.”

“Mh-hm.”

“I'll just go on, just a few weeks, because there's no way an Alpha would actually choose me -” He continued past his dad's objections to that statement (Stiles' romantic life matched his career's), “and just get my name out there.”

“They won't include that in the show, Stiles. That's not what they do.” 

“But, but, I can do an interview afterwards, or something, and just be like, hey, I'm looking for work.”

John frowned at him, pouring even more sauce on top of the soy patty Stiles had cooked for him. 

“I mean, worst comes to worst, it'll be something different. I'm not doing anything I can't be torn away from here. I mean, I can't afford a holiday, maybe I can get reality tv to pay for one for me.” 

“You're an idiot,” John had replied with a fond shake of his head, stabbing at his veggie burger with a fork. 

Stile would never have applied on his own, but being approached by an attractive, powerful woman who fawned all over him and gave him her business card, well... it was hard not to take that as a compliment. 

Senior Producer  
Tying The Knot  
Lydia Martin 

Maybe if Stiles went on the show Lydia might be interested in him... a little behind the scenes romance. 

Stiles waited until his father left for work to call. His heart was beating loudly, images of going on the show and all of his wildest dreams coming true playing out in front of his eyes. It took him several hours and a beer to work up the courage to actually make the call. 

“Oh, hi,” Stiles said to a secretary. “Um, I met Lydia yesterday and she gave me this number to call, to follow up on, about being on, uh, Tying The Knot.”

“Ms Martin's on holiday at the moment, but I can take your message and she can call you back when she gets back into the office on the 24th.” 

“Oh, yeah, of course, she said she was in Beacon Hills visiting her parents. Um... Sure.” Stiles gave the woman on the end his details and ended the call. Well... that had been underwhelming. The 24th was two weeks away. 

Stiles breathed out a sigh and decided to forget about it. Lydia had been so enthusiastic, but the secretary had made it all seem routine. They probably approached a heap of people, especially Omegas, the rarest of the dynamics, casting the net as wide as possible, to find people stupid enough to go on reality tv and risk their reputations in the hopes of achieving some notoriety. Stiles never actually expected a call back. 

So he was completely unprepared when the call came, and it ended up going to voicemail. 

“Hi, Stiles, it's Lydia, do you remember me? Lydia Martin, we met at the grocery store, producer on Tying The Knot. Listen, I heard you called back. My secretary unfortunately didn't forward on your message until I got back to the office. I'd love to have you call me back, on this number, it's my personal cell phone, and we can discuss it further. I have really high hopes for you, I think you'd be an excellent fit for the show. Call me back as soon as you can! Bye.” 

Stiles was sitting on his childhood bed, back to the headboard. He let Lydia's enthusiasm infect him, hitting return call immediately. 

A groggy, “Hello?” 

“Hi Lydia, it's Stiles, returning your call.” 

“Who?” 

“Um, Stiles, from the store at Beacon Hills – I'm sorry if I woke you-”

“Oh, Stiles! Oh no, no, no. Just taking a cat nap. Stiles! Thank you so much for calling me back. I actually wanted to talk to you about being on this upcoming season of Tying The Knot, so if you're interested we'd have to do contracts and background checks ASAP.” 

“Oh, ok.” 

“There's a physical, and mental wellness check. We'd need waiver forms from all of your family, and some friends. We'd need to conduct interviews with you, of course, just like a normal job interview, as well as looking into your past. It's not a big deal, we just want to check you're not an axe murderer.” Lydia laughed. 

Stiles let out a small answering laugh, feeling deflated. That was a lot. Plus, how did he say 'My only living relative is my Dad and I don't have any friends anymore'. He'd lost touch with everyone at university, and his few co-workers at work, when he was rostered on with them rather than doing the regular solo shift, were middle-aged. He hadn't been able to nail a job interview apart from the one that landed him his sales job at a shoe store. “Ummm...”

“I know, I know, it's so overwhelming.” Stiles could hear Lydia moving things around in the background. “But if you'd like, I could be your personal liaison and make everything as smooth as possible for you. Think of me as a personal assistant.” 

Stiles couldn't help but give a little chuckle at that. “Yeah, I'd have to think about it. My Dad's not crash-hot on the idea...”

“You've already brought it up with your family? That's fantastic! Stiles, I promise you, if you come on our show we will get you 20-something of the hottest Alpha bachelor and bachelorettes out there lined up, ready for you to choose your pick.”

“Wait... what?”

“Oh dear,” Lydia laughed, “Are you not familiar with the show?” 

“No, I just... You want me to be the Omega on an Omega season of the show?”

“Oh,” Lydia murmured, “Did I not explain that? Well that might explain why my secretary didn't put your call through immediately...”

Stiles stopped listening, blood rushing in his ears. If he was the Omega then he was the star and- and... there'd be no stopping his from turning it into a 9-week long job application. 

“And of course, being the Omega, you'd be paid. It's a $100,000 contract. Normally, there's more once you're off the show, offers for spokesperson positions, and-”

Stiles could see his bank account filling up with enough money to move out of his dad's house, maybe open his own business, travel, as if it were a physical money bag getting fatter right in front of him. “Lydia,” Stiles interrupted, “that sounds amazing.”


	2. Intermediate

Lydia had contacted him frequently over the next few weeks. 'ASAP' and 'immediately' turned out to be industry-speak for a six-month window. Lydia had also said it was a 'sure thing', which was lingo for 'she'd mentioned Stiles to her boss'. Stiles had been flown out to LA and put in a hotel on Tying The Knot's dime, which made everything so far worth it even if Stiles didn't get on the show, as far as Stiles was concerned. 

Apparently he was one of four Omegas they'd narrowed it down to. “We're so sick of celebrity Omegas. It's so obvious they're trying to shill their businesses, you know?” Stiles nodded, stomach fluttering guiltily. “America wants a love story, and as soon as I saw you, I saw someone not only an Alpha but an audience, the whole of America, could fall in love with," Lydia told him several months into the process. 

The flattery was heavy-handed, and Stiles wasn't stupid; he knew he was being manipulated. He also knew it was working. His Dad had agreed to speak to whoever the people were who checked out Stiles' background. John had refused to appear on screen, but Lydia was determined to make it work and offered John $5,000 to appear in one episode of the season, the visit-Stiles' family episode, the penultimate of the show. John had agreed but only after Stiles pleaded with him. 

They'd spoken to his bosses, co-workers, old school teachers and old school friends. They'd wanted copies of his bank accounts, they'd checked his university results with the university itself. Stiles felt like his entire life was under a microscope. What's more, Stiles understood it was also giving the producers leverage over him. He wondered who would bring up his failed classes and hurl them in his face while on camera to get a reaction. 

Stiles was flown back to LA and met with the Executive Producer of the show, an insane man called Robert Finstock. Lydia had prepared him relentlessly, but Stiles had merely shook Mr Finstock's hand, been ordered to call him 'Bobby', smelt by the man rather rudely, and looked over thoroughly, Finstock appearing to count his moles. “All right,” Bobby sighed. “This one. Now, I have golf.” And he'd left the room. 

“See, what did I tell you?” Lydia had whispered. “That's why you don't do cocaine.” Stiles hadn't even managed to say a single sentence during the interaction, all of his pre-prepared lines buzzing around like bees in his brain, waiting to be let out like he'd promised them. Lydia smiled at his gobsmacked expression. “He likes you. Now, tell me what you like. Just a heads up, some of the contestants are going to be good tv. But, we do want a love match. So some of the contestants will be feasible candidates. You like your alphas tall, short, hairy, muscly, smart, funny?”

“Women,” Stiles had managed to shove out after a minute of Lydia waiting for an answer. They were still in the massive boardroom reserved for his meeting with Finstock. Lydia and he sat next to each other at a huge glass table with at least 20 empty seats surrounding them. Stiles' gaze kept wondering out the floor-to-ceiling windows showing him bright blue sky with fluffy marshmallow clouds. 

“Okay. Female alphas. Blonde? Brunette?”

“Redheads,” Stiles answered, looking at Lydia's hair while he said it. 

Lydia smiled knowingly. “Okay. Tall?”

Stiles nodded. It was a stereotype: the shorter Omega with the taller Alpha. Stiles was slightly ashamed that it held true for him. “It's difficult, because I'm tall,” Stiles said. 

“Not an issue. Now, do you prefer someone you can laugh with or have a deep discussion?” 

Stiles frowned a little. “I think I answered all of these already, one of those online surveys they keeps sending out...”

“Oh, yes. That's for the show, sweetie. This is for me to make sure we find someone you're interested in. I'll have final say over some of the slots for your paramours, since I'm your liaison producer. I want to make sure I can do what I can for you.”

“Can I see them?” Stiles asked, excited. “The files, for the candidates?”

“No, silly. That'll ruin the show. But don't worry, you have Ms Lydia Martin on the case. You'll be happy with at least five of them, I promise.”

“Five, out of?”

Lydia smiled. “20.”

“Oh. Right.” 

“But you only need to pick one.” Lydia smiled. “Let's get you back to your hotel. No point in you missing out on all the luxury of a free night's stay, huh?” 

Lydia travelled with him to the hotel, continuing the discussion of his preferences in the limo, then walking him across to the lobby to the elevator, watching him get on. She was starting to feel less like an assistant and more like a minder. The hotel room was beautiful, and luxurious. But Stiles didn't have anyone to share it with, didn't want to go out into the unfamiliar town on his own. He watched some tv, had a long bath, and ordered too much room service since he wasn't paying the bill. It was nice, it was different like he wanted from his regular life, but it was also boring, and dull. He felt like he was in a glided cage. Stiles wondered if this was just a preview to what being on the show was going to be like.

 

~~~

 

Stiles had been mentally preparing for the show for the last six months, since that first chance meeting with Lydia. He'd had endless discussions with his dad while re-watching old seasons. He'd had to apply for leave with his boss, for the specific dates. Yet it still seemed to come out of nowhere. Stiles didn't feel nervous at all as he was flown and chauffeured to the house. The house, the one from the show, THE house. Until the house appeared before him, familiar but so much larger, Stiles hadn't been able to process that it was even real. This was actually happening. Stiles flung his head between his knees and breathed deeply. 

Lydia was the one to open the backdoor of the limo and coo a welcome. “Oh no, Stiles, sweetie, are you okay?”

“Uh-huh,” Stiles gasped. “It's just... a lot.”

“Yes, yes, it is. Get it all out now. You have all day before the contestants arrive, so you can explore your apartment, and the house, do whatever you want. Let's get Greenberg, GREENBERG! - to get your gear, and take it to your room. Let me show you around. You want to see the Crafts Table?”

“What's that?” Stiles asked. 

“Food,” Lydia smiled. 

“Oh. Yeah, then, definitely.” With Lydia's hand in his he slid slowly out of the limo. He watched someone carry his cases away from him towards the house and felt a little helpless, like his control of the situation was being carried off with his luggage. 

 

~~~

 

The outside of the house looked exactly like tv, the inside however... there were cameras and lights strung from the ceiling, equipment and cables strewn over the floor. People dressed normally were hurrying around. Someone was carrying boxes labelled with a candle company's name out the side of the house. Someone else was putting flowers everywhere. People were yelling upstairs about room assignments for the contestants. 

Stiles' room was like a granny flat, but very fancy, about half a mile across the grounds. Lydia showed it to him with a golf cart taking them the distance. There were cameras there as well, but Lydia promised the bathroom was camera-free. “Someone will pick you up and drop you off everyday. When you're at the mansion, there's a special sitting room only the crew and yourself can enter, in case you need time to relax away from the contestants.”

Around lunch-time Stiles was driven to a nearby river and was filmed looking at a pink rose, stroking it across his lips and cheek, and throwing it lightly into the water. He felt like an idiot. Lydia was somewhere else and a douchebag the others called Jackson kept directing Stiles, speaking to him like he was a child. By the end of it, as grey clouds rolled in and everyone was stuffed back into the transport bus, Stiles was thankful he wasn't an Alpha and images of him shirtless weren’t required. 

“We'll get all the other promo shots during the week, on the days you're not on dates with the Alphas,” Jackson had told him and then ignored him for the rest of the ride home. Stiles had struck up a quiet conversation with the cameraman whose names was Boyd, and Boyd had told him about his job and what it was like on set when they were filming. 

“You can break the 4th wall any-time you want. The producers don't like it, but that's what the editors are for,” Boyd had said. “Breaking the 4th wall is the best way to make sure whatever you're gonna say isn't gonna end up on the show.”

Stiles had been thankful, not just for the information, but for Boyd himself who was calming and sincere in a way no-one else associated with the show had been. 

Dread grew in his stomach; Stiles felt like this whole thing had been a colossal mistake.


	3. Day 1 Filming

By sun-down, trying on new outfits for his meeting with the Alphas and Betas, Stiles felt like he was going to puke. Everything had gone from 0 to 60. Yesterday at the same time he was at home, talking to his dad, packing. Now, he was also talking to his dad while a seamstress pinned the suit provided by production for quick tailoring, but his phone had been taken from him and put on speaker. Stiles understood it was so his conversation would be monitored. 

“As soon as the Alphas arrive, we'll take your phone away, just like we discussed, okay Stiles? For privacy and confidentiality,” Lydia had reminded him as she removed the phone from his hand and set it down on the nearby table. “The Alphas and Betas haven't had their mobiles for at least several hours, now. You're lucky to be able to have one last call.” 

Stiles didn't feel lucky. 

“You okay, kiddo?”

“I'm fine. I feel like I'm going to have a panic attack.” 

“You're going to be okay. I'm actually looking forward to the home visit, so that I can see you again. It feels a lot longer than a day since I saw you last.” 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. It's only been a day, but I feel... exhausted.” 

“It's only two months,” his dad reassured. “You'll have them eating out the palm of your hand.”

“Dad...” Stiles had to say it, this thing he'd just discovered he'd been afraid of this entire time, even if it meant admitting it in front of strangers, he still had to get it out and seek comfort from his dad. “What if... what if none of the Alphas want me? What if-”

“You're going to be fine, Stiles.” 

“What if they all think I'm ugly? And they all want to go home-”

“That won't happen-”

“Or, or I mess everything up. I trip over a cord, and a light tips over and the house goes up in flames.” 

“Stiles-”

“Or what if America hates me?” Stiles gasped in a breath, feeling woozy. “What if I become known as the stupid, awkward Omega that got cast as a mistake-”

“Stiles,” both John and Lydia say at the same time. “That won't happen,” John says as Lydia says, “We won't let that happen.” After a pause Lydia continues, “Something pretty extreme has to happen for us to want to make you look bad, otherwise it reflects badly on us, on the brand, on the very premise of the show. Stiles I promise you, if I didn't think you'd be a good fit I wouldn't have given you my card. If everyone else who investigated you, if Bobby had thought this was a mistake, we would all have said something. Honestly, honestly, you can go out there and stuff everything up. But it's television. We'll just call cut and go again. You'll be fine.” 

“Listen to her, kid, she seems to know what she's talking about,” John agreed. 

'Just call cut and go again.' For the first time that day being on a tv show, filmed by cameras and managed by staff didn't seem so claustrophobic. 

 

~~~

 

Stiles had been waiting on the path from the house to the paved driveway for about half an hour before the first limo of suitors arrived. During that time, as people wandering by fixed his make-up or microphone or offered him water, his anxiety had settled into nothing. Lydia had kept stopping by to check on him and ask him nonsensical questions; his favourite colour, favourite song, food he liked. 

“Don't you usually ply us types with champagne?” Stiles had asked as she whizzed by to confirm the colour of tie he was wearing. It was a very dusky pink that went well with his lightly golden suit, although Stiles felt like an Easter egg. 

“Not you, sweetie, but the suitors, yes. As soon as you've met them all, come find me, I've got a sheet with all their names and faces we can go over. You're gonna do great.” Lydia had turned to the crowd of people milling around. “Can we get our Omega a chair!? Why is Stiles standing just because the limos are late? Star of the show, people.” 

Stiles sighed, watching the camera on the crane move back and forth as he waited for something to happen. Something happened suddenly, a mousy girl running forth and gesturing at him. Stiles had stood up, confused, and the girl had picked up his chair and hurtled away with it. It was night-time, about 10 o'clock, but the driveway was lit up like Christmas with all of the lights, some fairy lights in the trees and bushes, and stage lights pointing right at Stiles so he felt half-blinded. 

“Face forwards, look excited,” Lydia had said, rushing past him one last time, tugging his jacket straight. “Limo one is incoming. Get ready to meet your soulmate!” 

Stiles waited as the first dark, sleek limo slid into the driveway and came to a stop. His palms were sweating like crazy. He kept looking directly at the camera. 

The limo stood silent, a staff member pulling the door open and speaking quietly. They shut the door again and after a moment, Boyd getting nice and close down low to the door with his camera sitting on one of his shoulders like a small child, the limo door opened and a man in a dark suit got out. Stiles let out a long low breath, a hysterical smile pulling at his lips. 

This man was handsome. Stiles felt his smile pull larger. His eyes darted off to the side, seeking Lydia past the glare of the lights, and she smiled as she gave him a thumbs-up. 

Stiles tried to surreptitiously wipe his palms on his pants as the man approached. It was dead silent. They must add the romantic whimsical music in afterwards, Stiles thought, of course they did. Unlike all the Alphas Stiles had watched walk up the path before, this one he could hear the crunch of pebbles beneath his shoes and see the way he watched his own feet as he took the few steps up the slight incline on the path. 

“Hello,” the man said. 

“Hi,” Stiles said, suddenly shy. 

“I'm Chris,” the man extended his hand. Up close Stiles could see the man was a lot older than he'd first thought. He was still incredibly handsome, but crows feet were embedded next to his brilliant blue eyes. Stiles' eyes slid to the side without his control as he shook the man's hand, seeking out Lydia for.... comfort, an explanation? 

“I'm Stiles,” Stiles finally answered back. The man's gaze had turned from happy to cautious during the pause while Stiles remembered basic social etiquette. 

“It's lovely to meet you, Stiles.” 

“Thank you. It's nice to meet you too,...” Stiles' mind flailed wildly for a long stretch of half a minute, “Chris.” Fuck. 

“I hope you don't mind me asking but how old are you, Stiles?” 

“Um, I'm 24.” 

“Hm.” 

Stiles realised Chris might have some reservations about the age difference as well. “And yourself?” 

“Oh, I'm 43.” 

“Almost double,” Stiles commented, just for something to say. 

“I have a daughter your age,” Chris commented. “Allison.” 

“I went to school with an Allison. Argent?” 

Chris's eyebrows raised. “You know my daughter.” 

“We went to school together, we were in the same year...” Allison Argent, she'd been pulled out Junior Year because her mum had committed suicide... This was Allison's widowed father. Oh shit. 

Chris's expression had turned fiery. “So they put me on the show with someone who went to school with my kid? Great.” He huffed and turned away from the camera, although he had to know the microphone would still pick up everything. “I thought I was too old for this shit. I'm the old sad sack character, aren't I?” 

Stiles opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish. Chris was still frowning, waiting on Stiles' response, almost like he was seeking comfort. “I don't think so. You're very handsome. I mean...” Stiles blushed. “I don't mind having you here.” 

“Yeah, okay.” Chris sighed and wandered towards the house without looking at Stiles. 

Stiles felt gut-punched, like he'd done something wrong. He turned and looked for Lydia, who was trotting over already. “That's okay. Everyone had ideas about that the show will be like, and it's a full-on experience when you arrive. He just needs to adjust. You were great!” 

“Lydia, is Chris a for the tv Alpha, or a for-me Alpha?”

“Sweetheart,” Lydia said with a fond smile. “I gotta go. Next one's coming.” 

Stiles looked down where the same staff member had opened and shut the door again, and the limo door was opening from the inside. Someone much closer to Stiles' age stepped out. He had blonde wavy hair and an angelic face. Isaac was the exact same age as Stiles. 

After the first few people arrived Stiles was just lost in the sea of names and faces. From what Stiles could gather, Chris was indeed the oldest contestant but there were some other older Alphas, like Deucalion, who was blind, his Alpha smell compensating some for his lack of sight. Alphas and Omegas tended to have better ability to scent than Betas along with some other physiological differences. Betas were considered the factory model of the species, and Alphas and Omegas came with their own extras although Stiles thought he wouldn't mind being considered less evolved if it meant avoiding monthly heats as an Omega. Stiles had had to show his paperwork for having received his suppression and birth control shots while being considered for the show, and then he'd had to sign paperwork to allow representatives of the show to contact his doctor and double check he'd received them right before the show started. Betas had lesser smell but did they need constant injections just cause? Who was getting the better deal here?

Stiles was lucky that Aiden and Ethan had come out of the limo at the same time otherwise Stiles never would have noticed they were identical. Everyone was blurring together so badly he wouldn't have known he had an actual problem telling the two apart. Stiles had blushed deeply as they both kissed a cheek at the same time, and they'd wandered into the house. 

There were a few people who looked a-like who all arrived in the same limo, and Stiles knew from watching previous seasons that with Omegas suitors Alphas from the Omega's resident ruling pack would be invited. These were the Hales from Beacon Hills, filling four of the 20 slots; Peter, Derek (who Stiles was shocked to scent as a Beta), Laura and Cora. Cora had to be the youngest of all the potential suitors for Stiles, even younger than he was. Typically on a heavy-handed show like Tying The Knot the couples followed the typical older-Alpha younger-Omega pattern. Peter had been too charming, Derek had barely grunted at him, leaving Stiles affronted, Laura was very formal but gracious, and Cora had been cute and casual. 

There was a Scott who Stiles had gotten along with immediately, an Erica who had deliberately marked his cheek with her dark red lipstick when she kissed him, and a PA had to come in and wipe his cheek clean before the next Alpha could leave the limo. 

There was an Ennis who had told Stiles he knew how to make the perfect pinachios, a combination of pizza and nachos, and Ennis' declared favourite find. Stiles had replied, “Mine too!” and only after realised that was a question Lydia had asked him earlier and he'd been played. It was after that Stiles had thought back and realised all of the Hales had had blue on them- their tie or necklace, which Stiles had earlier reported as his favourite colour. 

Stiles was wiped out by the time he met Kali, Matt, Danny and whoever the hell else. He'd thought 20 might not be enough but at the end of meeting all of them he was ready to have a nap. 

Lydia had come and nabbed him, dragging him to Stiles' personal sitting room and plopping a cheat sheet down in front of him. There were food platters with cheeses, fruits and deli meats, as well as a pitcher of water. 

“Wine?” Stiles had asked. 

“No, you have to eat first. We don't want you getting sloppy on camera, plus you need to remember everyone's names. Come on. Who did you like, who did you hate?” Lydia prompted. 

“Uhh...”

“Okay, you met Chris first. Are you going to ask him to stay do you think?” 

Chris was old enough to be his father. He was very handsome though... “Keep.”

“Great. Isaac?”

“Don't know. Maybe.”

“What about the twins? What did you think of them?”

“You didn't pick them, did you?” Stiles asked, wrinkling his nose. 

“No, but they'll make excellent ratings. Bobby wants me to get you into a hot tub with them at some point. Oh, also, please don't cut them tonight, not until after the hot tub, then they're gone if you'd like.” 

“Ugh.” 

“What about the Hales?”

“Am I allowed to cut them either?”

“No. You can get rid of half of them by episode two, but hopefully you'll keep one to the final four.” 

“Jesus.” 

“Politics. That's show-biz, baby.” 

“Are you this honest with all the Omegas?”

“No. You're quick.” Lydia narrowed he eyes and pointed her finger at him. “You can play the game. I knew it as soon as I saw you.” 

“Oh, have I mentioned I want to talk about finding a job with my degree on tv?” 

Lydia actually rolled her eyes. “Once or twice, sweetheart. We'll get to that. First night, you need to be carefree and mingle. Names to faces. Make a good impression with the audience. Then they'll want to hire you.” 

“Okay.” Stiles grabbed up the cheat sheet with names under photos as a PA knocked on the door, swinging it open a little. 

“They're ready for him outside.”

“Give us another five.” 

“Thanks, Lydia. Can I keep this?” 

“Not out there, but I'll have it on me, you can just come up to me and ask to see it anytime you like, alright?” 

“Sure.” 

“Take your time. Have some cheese, we gotta line your stomach.” 

 

~~~

 

It was musky with night-rain and Alpha scent out on the patio where the contestants were milling, talking amongst themselves. Stiles stood awkwardly at the edge of the floor, wondering who to approach when Scott noticed him. 

“Hey, Stiles!” Scott greeted loudly, drawing the attention of the other Alphas and Betas. “Come on, get a drink.” From the flush on his cheeks and loosened tie, Scott looked like he'd had a few already. Scott deftly handed him a flute of bubbly, Stiles taking a sip. “How are you? Is this a lot for you? How are you going to remember everyone's names!?” Scott laughed, “I know I couldn't.” 

“They have a thing with your photos and names so I can, like, study, up to the elimination ceremony.”

“Uh-huh. Well I guess you only need to know the names of the people you're gonna keep, really, that'll make it a bit easier. Then you only need to remember...”

“Twelve,” Stiles said. 

“Oh man, I do not envy you. I couldn't even keep everyone's name straight in the limo, and there was only like eight of us.” 

Stiles laughed, feeling at ease with Scott. It was like talking to an old buddy. He could have spent the entire night with Scott, but someone was taking his arm and leaning in. 

“Can I talk to you for a moment?” Matt asked. 

Stiles leant back to reclaim his personal space. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“I'll see you again,” Scott said with a little wave. Stiles smiled and nodded back as he was dragged off, out from under the verandah to the green dew-wet grass where a wooden bench was. The bench was also wet, as Stiles and Matt sat down. 

“So,” Matt said. “Tell me everything!” 

“Uh, everything?” Out of the corner of his eye he can see Jackson talking to Isaac, clearly trying to nudge him towards Stiles in order to ask for a conversation. Lydia was talking to Peter, both of them throwing their heads back to laugh. God, Stiles hoped that wasn't about him. 

“Or you know, anything,” Matt prompts. 

“Huh?” Stiles' attention swivels back to Matt who is all but pouting. 

“You're staring at Peter Hale,” Matt accuses. 

“What?” Stiles laughs. 

Matt glares, standing up. “If you'd rather be talking to one of the Hales, then I'll get out of your way.” 

Stiles looks after Matt, mouth open. Stiles is pretty sure he didn't do anything wrong that time, and Matt is just being a dick. He takes a moment to breathe in and out, slowly. 

Laura stumbles onto the grass in her incredibly high heels, tall tan leg peeking out of her dress slit. “His Stiles,” she smiles. “Matt said you wanted to talk to me.”

“Oh, hi.” Laura is gorgeous and statuesque, and casually confident in her power. Stiles knows from word of mouth that she is a partnered lawyer at a firm. Stiles is intimidated as all hell by her. He takes another sip of champagne and decides to be honest as Laura sits on the bench next to him. “I'd have never been able to speak with you outside of the show. You're so... well, you know.” 

Laura pushes a long, silken lock of hair behind her ear. “Well, Stiles, I'm here because I'm single. So I'm not so completely out of your league.” Laura smiles at him. “You're a gorgeous, clever Omega. Anyone here would be lucky to have you.”

Stiles smiles. “Really?” 

“Yeah! Tell me about what you do for work.” 

Old shame spills up Stiles' spine. “Um. I have a Journalism degree from the University of-”

“Hi Stiles, can I steal you?” Isaac has worked up the courage to interrupt. 

Stiles thinks that Isaac is adorable but he would rather speak to Laura right now. “Laura and I were just starting to-”

“It's okay, Stiles.” Laura leant forward and pecked him on the cheek. “I'll see you at the ceremony if not sooner.” She stood up, confident that Stiles was going to choose her to stay, and strode back to the patio, wobbling only slightly in her stiletto heels on the lawn. 

Isaac sat down on Stiles left, smiling shyly. Stiles smiled back, jumping slightly as Peter threw himself down on his right. 

“Let's share, hm?” Peter smirked at Isaac, before turning to Stiles. “Hello gorgeous.” 

“Uh, hi...” 

The evening continued in that fashion. Lydia would pop up when he had a solitary moment, so basically when he begged off to the bathroom, and show him the cheatsheet and try to fill him with water or cheese. Jackson kept handing him champagne, as well as all the contestants in an Alpha gesture of being able to provide for their mate. 

Some of the Alphas or Betas were a lot more aggressive than the others. It was odd, because that behaviour wouldn't impress Stiles on the outside, but the less aggressive contestants weren't even making an impression. 

Stiles hadn't even had a conversation with Derek. Isaac hadn't tried for a second conversation since Peter had stolen his moment earlier. Chris, likewise, wasn't making any effort for his time. Ethan and Aiden, Cora, Scott and Danny were trailing around the edges, grabbing Stiles when there was a convenient moment. Kali, Ennis, Erica and Peter were much more willing to edge into an existing conversation and take over. Matt was glaring at him, following him around to make sure Stiles knew he was being rejected. There were several people he wouldn't be choosing simply because he couldn't remember their names and connect them to faces. 

Stiles had been led over to Deucalion by one of the other producers, where Deucalion had been sitting on an overly-pillowed sofa under an arch of flowers. 'Duke' as Deucalion insisted Stiles call him, sat with his hands folded on top of his support cane, sunglasses perched on his nose even though it was night. He exuded the same confidence as Laura; he knew Stiles was going to pick him. It made sense, Stiles couldn't cut the blind guy first episode without looking like a dick. 

Stiles suddenly thought about the whole process differently – he was only picking 12 of the 20. Four were Hales because they were members of his ruling pack and probably had a pact with production. Lydia had requested he keep Aiden and Ethan. Duke. That was seven, which only left five. Stiles suddenly felt panicked. 12 had been too many people, but now he had too few options. 

Duke reached out with one hand, unerringly finding Stiles' arm. “I can sense you're up-set by something. Is it my blindness?” 

“Oh no. I'm just thinking about the selection ceremony coming up. There's so many people I want to keep, actually. I was afraid there wouldn't be enough people I'd like, but there are so many great people.” 

Duke smiled. “I hope I can include myself in that group.”

“Oh, of course.” Stiles reached out and placed his hand on top of Duke's other one. “So what do you do for work out in the real world?”

“That's a fantastic question,” Duke smiled. “I run a security agency.” Duke's hand on his arm rubbed it gently and Stiles felt a frisson of excitement. Duke didn't at all look like someone Stiles would like on the outside, but this was the good of the show. Also, Stiles had had a lot of champagne by this point. 

“That's fantastic! Wow. What's it like working there? Hey, I'd love to work at a security firm!” 

“Psst, Stiles!” Lydia hissed, leaning in from out of nowhere. “We're here for romance! Episode one!” 

“So, Duke...” Stiles popped his cheeks. “That cane good for anything else?” Duke couldn't see his raised eyebrow but could hear his flirtatious tone. To his relief Duke threw his head back and cackled. 

“Alright, suitors, can we get you moving through to the next room,” was announced over a PA system. The producer who had placed Stiles next to Duke groaned, scrubbing at their face with their palms. 

“What's their deal?” Stiles asked Lydia, who was at his elbow, nodding in the producer's direction. 

“Come on, to your sitting room,” Lydia corralled. Once there, she explained, “Producers have assigned contestants to look after, so it doesn't get too confusing. So you want your contestants to make it to the final two, or the final three at least. Once all of your contestants go home, so do you, because you don't have anyone to produce anymore.”

“Oh, who are your contestants? The twins?” 

“No, dumb-dumb. You are. You're my contestant. We all help each other out, we all work for the show at the end of the day. But it acts as motivation to make sure your assigned contestants are getting one-on-one time with our resident bachelor, as well as air time. But looking after the Omega or Alpha of the season is a full-time job. I won a ticket to the end of the season just by getting you on the show. Think about it, you're not going home early.” 

“Oh. Right.”

“Be careful when you get advice from the other producers. You're not their first priority like you are with me.” 

“Okay.” 

“Now you've got at least half an hour before they're all lined up. Who are you going to keep?” 

“I don't know. The Hales, right?”

“Yes, but do you know their names?” 

“Peter. Cora. Laura. They rhyme, did their parents do that on purpose? Anddddd Derek.” 

“Okay, who else?”

“Blind guy because he's blind. Also kinda hot. Ohh and he owns his own business. Twins, because you asked nicely-”

“We need names, Stiles.” 

“Duke. Aiden. Blaiden?”

“Ethan.”

“Ethan and Aiden.” 

“You've got five left.

“Well Scott, definitely. Danny was nice. I liked Erica. Um, Isaac I guess.”

“Okay, well that leaves Samson-”

“Who?”

“Gerald-”

“Ummm.”

“Chris.” 

“Oh, Chris, yeah... I don't think he likes me much.”

“Maybe he just needs you to show him that you like him first.” 

“Yeahhh, that makes sense...” 

“Kali? I thought I saw a spark?” 

“Nooo, she was scary. I didn't like her. She kept gripping my shoulder and squeezing with her nails. I was not into that.” 

“Hm. Well that's not good. You should have said something. She's one of Jackson's,” Lydia muttered to herself. “Not surprised.” 

Stiles went over the list of names and faces with Lydia until he was confident he had his 12 memorised. 

“And you want to think about the order of the names. Don't go 'Hale, Hale, Hale, Hale, blind guy.” 

“Alright, so like Danny, Hale, Isaac, Hale.”

“Exactly. Erica, Aiden, Peter, Ethan.” 

“Am I supposed to be able to tell Aiden and Ethan apart?”

“No, don't worry about it. Think of them as a single contestant. We only need to be able to tell them apart if you want to keep one of them for longer than a few dates.” 

Lydia and Stiles were outside the doors to the hall where the Elimination Ceremony was going to be held. It had to be at least 4 in the morning, and only adrenaline was keeping Stiles going. 

“Maybe I'll choose Ethan or Aiden at the start, and not choose the other one to the end, or something,” Stiles muttered out loud. 

“Ooooh, you're a natural!” Lydia's pride was like a shot of whisky, calming and warming him. 

Lydia stepped back and Boyd took film of Stiles sighing thoughtfully, as directed by Lydia, and opening the double doors and stepping through, another cameraman on the other side to capture his stride through the arched doorway. Once that had been captured he was directed to a small black mat to keep him on his mark, next to a stand with flowers. 

Stiles coughed, feeling the worst stage fright in the world. 20 Alphas and Betas looking at him, waiting for him to speak. Stiles blanched, feeling himself sway woozily. Later his dad would talk about how it came across in the episode, beautifully edited to show Derek springing forwards to catch Stiles, lowering him carefully to the floor. Stiles had automatically assumed his fainting and faceplant would be edited out. He hadn't even been aware that Derek had caught him. 

Filming was delayed while Stiles was looked after by the first aid nurse. That made it into the episode as well, just a small scene of the poor, helpless Omega needing to be cared for. After a banana and some orange juice Stiles was back in front of the crowd. 

“Well, I'm much more relaxed now. The worst thing's already happened. It's all clear sailing from here.” Some of the contestants were polite enough to laugh. “I'll call out your name if I've decided I want you to stay so we can get to know each other better. If I call your name, come forwards and accept the rose if you'd like to stay.” 

Stiles breathed in deeply through his nose, picking up the pink rose on the top of the pile. All the thorns had been carefully removed. He tapped it against his lips, thinking. The first person to stay in the whole competition. Watching the episode back later, they drew the moment out for maximum anticipation, closing in on Stiles' lips against the petals, almost the same shade of pink. 

“Scott,” Stiles finally called out. 

Scott beamed, accepting the rose with a hug. “Thanks so much, man.” 

“No problem, dude.” 

Second rose. “Laura.”

Stiles whipped his gaze around as someone scoffed. Stiles glared at Matt. Matt glared back. 

Stiles then rounded out his first five with Ethan, Duke and Danny. 

“Seven left,” a PA called out. The next four were Cora, Isaac, Erica and Peter. There were 11 people left standing in front of Stiles, Stiles trying to pick out his final three. He still had a twin to choose, a Hale and then a free throw. 

“Aiden,” Stiles said. Aiden and Ethan simultaneously let out identical sighs of relief. Aiden bypassed Stiles entirely, heading to Ethan to hug him. Stiles couldn't help the way his eyebrows climbed his forehead at that. The editors made sure to include his expression in the final version. Boyd had managed to capture the two Alphas hugging with Stiles' face still clear in the background. Stiles handed over the rose he had in his hand and accepted the less enthusiastic hug. 

Derek was glaring at him balefully. He seemed surprised when Stiles called his name, everyone ignoring Matt's much louder scoff. 

“This is my last rose,” Stiles declared as prompted by Lydia. He held it in front of him, palms sweaty again. Ennis looked hopeful, and Stile's gaze flicked between him and Chris, biting his lips. 

“Chris,” Stiles finally declared. 

“What,” Matt yelled. “What!?” Security was there immediately, shouldering other contestants out of the way in order to subdue Matt who had clearly had way more to drink than Stiles had first thought. “What is wrong with you? I'm right here, ready for you, you stupid-” The camera crew that chased out after security to capture the drama shut the doors to the large hall after them, Matt barely audible out on the grounds. 

In the loud silence that followed Chris stepped forward, taking the rose from Stiles. 

“Do you accept it?” Stiles asked as Chris just stood there, contemplating the rose. 

“I'll stay around for as long as you want me to, kid,” Chris answered, giving Stiles a half-hearted one-armed hug. 

Afterwards a PA would golf-cart him back to his abode, where Stiles would sleep until lunchtime. And that was the end of Day One of The Life of Stiles Stilinski, Star of Reality TV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've just noticed that the italics haven't crossed over from the Word document which is _frustrating_. But oh well.


	4. Day 2

Lydia is dismantling a pastry into tiny sections with her acrylic nails as she goes through today's schedule as they sit in Stiles' grannyflat. That way she can pop tiny bites into her mouth and keep talking while barely chewing. It's a very slow but efficient way to eat. Stiles is having breakfast for lunch after filming didn't wrap until almost sun-up the night before. “We need to film your reactions to the contestants, you're going to be doing that with Dr Deaton. Then we're gonna get some more promo shots of you. We've already sent out a package with what you shot yesterday, and the publicists are eating it up! Lots of hype for this season already.” 

“What's my angle?”

“Boy next door sweetheart. Down to Earth, slightly awkward in a way that makes you lovely and relatable. I've seen some of what the crew shot last night, it's fantastic. Bobby's thrilled. We're gonna have a great first episode. Try not to faint again though. You can call time out anytime, and make sure you're eating and drinking enough.”

“So what else?”

“Tomorrow we're going on a group date, and the day after that is a single, day after that is a single, then another elimination ceremony.” 

“And I'm getting rid of two people?”

“You don't get rid of anyone. You choose people. Some people just don't get chosen. You'll have ten options left at the end of the week. So start thinking about who you want on the two single dates, and then which six you want on the group date tomorrow.”

“Where are we going?” 

“Photo-shoot, same as every season.”

“Oh, right. Of course. With the calendar nonsense.”

“That's it!” 

“Do I get to choose all the people with who-what-where on the dates?” 

“Well,” Lydia shot him a side glance from under her hair, “Certainly I can assist you on where there might be potential. For example, Scott seems like a great group-date type of guy. We'd love to have you split up the twins so you can see if there's any genuine connection there. Derek, I think a group date would really bring him out of his shell.”

Stiles cackles at that, unsure if Lydia means it as cruelly as Stiles is interpreting the comment. 

“I'd like to take Laura on a single date,” Stiles says slowly. 

“Sure! Can I suggest if you're taking a female Alpha on one of the singles, you take a male Dynamic on the other?” 

“Ummm... Danny?” 

“He's one of my five!” Lydia smiles. “Oh, shouldn't have told you that. Anyway... Forget you heard that. I'll let Production know, get the wheels rolling, get the invites printed. You enjoy your breakfast, and I'll have someone come pick you up in about an hour. After the confessionals they're taking you to an apartment we've rented to get some Stiles-at-home-around-the-house type shots.” 

“Right.” Where the Alphas were shirtless and rode horses on the beach, Omegas baked pies and sighed at clouds. Stiles is too full of pastry to be annoyed at his part in furthering outdated stereotypes. Stiles wonders what that says about him as a person as Lydia waves goodbye, taking the golfcart she'd used to deliver breakfast with her so Stiles was left stranded until the next PA comes to pick him up. 

An hour and a half later Stiles has been dressed in a casual pale blue button-up with khaki trousers and is sitting across from Dr Deaton, the show's resident psychologist and question-asker. Boyd is pointing a mounted camera at Stiles while looking at a display in his other hand. Everyone else is so casual it's easy for Stiles to relax. He thought he'd hate doing the confessionals but Deaton has a very relaxing vibe to him and Stiles is finding it easy to be open and honest. 

“What's the journey been like so far for you, Stiles?” 

“Well, umm,” Stiles laughs, “We only started yesterday but... it's been a rush. Really over-whelming, so much going on, so many people... Yeah.” 

“Who do you miss back home the most?”

“Oh my Dad, definitely. We're really close. You know, since my Mum died.” 

“When was that?” 

“A few years back. Yeah. Me and Dad, all we really have is each other.” 

“If you find your Mate here, that all changes though, doesn't it? You'll have another person in your family, to spend holidays with.”

“Huh. I hadn't thought about it that way.”

“Do you think, even though you met everyone yesterday, that your future Mate might be here, in the house, right now, waiting for you?” 

“Sure. Yeah, definitely. Why not.” What's Stiles going to say, 'no', and mock the entire premise of the show he's on? Duh. 

Deaton turns his head and frowns slightly, the gesture he makes when he's listening to his earpiece, situated in the ear not facing the camera. “Can you say it again, Stiles, but more positive, more enthusiastic?” 

Stiles grits his teeth and commands himself to earn his paycheck. “I definitely think I'm going to meet my Mate here, on Tying The Knot! I'm sure I met him last night, and I've just got to find him!” 

Deaton turns and frowns. “Okay, that was excellent, but again, and a little more genuine.” 

Stiles sighs. This is going to take for-ev-er. He slaps on a smile and says calmly, “I would love to have the person I spend the rest of my life with here with me now. That's what I'm here for. I would like- I would like to find someone special, and-” Stiles feels oddly choked up, “I don't know – I didn't think I'd ever find someone, so this is all a lot, you know. I want there to be someone- I would like for there to be someone I can form a serious relationship with here in the house, right now. That would make my life so much easier.” 

Stiles thinks he's going to have to do it again but Deaton pauses then nods, smiling. “We can work with that. The first to arrive was Chris. Tell us about what you thought of him, and his age.” 

“Well, obviously he's a lot older than me. He has a daughter my age – he's literally old enough to be my father. He seems really nice though. He's got that calm, confident thing people get when they get older- with experience, I mean. He's very- He's got beautiful blue eyes. It was the first thing I noticed about him. I didn't even notice his age at first.” 

Deaton seems a little surprised. “So Chris is a serious contender? Someone who might make it to the final four?” 

Stiles shrugs. “I don't know yet. I need to get to know him better before I make any decisions.” 

Several months in the future Stiles will watch the first episode, trying to remember what he specifically said as on his screen his own face, lit like he's bathed in candlelight, licks his lips and says, “I didn't even notice his age at first.” There's a shot of Deaton nodding contemplatively as Stiles on screen continues, “He's got beautiful blue eyes. It was the first thing I noticed about him.” There's a quick silent insert of Stiles and Chris meeting, zoomed in on Chris's eyes while Stiles' voice continues in order to make the frankenbiting less obvious, “Obviously he's a lot older than me. He's literally old enough to be my father. I need to get to know him better before I make any decisions.” 

They go through all 20 Alphas and Betas, Stiles growing bored and honest. He knew that every word out of his mouth might be heard by the people he was discussing, but it felt so removed, and everyone was so relaxed. It was too difficult to keep his defences up as contestant after contestant was discussed, Deaton providing photos and telling him about specific incidents to job his memory.

Stiles talked about how much he liked Scott and about how outside they'd probably be great friends, but the platonic element was removed in post production before it went to air. Stiles talked about Isaac and how sweet he seemed and how bad he felt about Peter pushing in and damaging his confidence like that. He was perhaps a little too honest in his assessment of Derek, the broody silent one, “This isn't an Emily Bronte novel, you know?” 

It was difficult coming up with tactful responses on the spot once Deaton had given him softballs like, “Erica is a confident Alpha, do you like that in a woman?” “I love it!” and “Danny has advised he only has relationships with same-gender people, and has had relationships with all three Dynamics in the past. Does that concern you?” “Of course not, not at all. I say you know, you're not hurting anyone, do whatever makes you happy. It wouldn't affect me at all when deciding whether to keep Danny or not.” And then suddenly Deaton, without a change in tone or inflection is asking, “Do you have reservations about becoming the Mate of a disabled Alpha?” “You-you mean Duke?” and “Would you be able to have a relationship with just Aiden or Ethan, or would you always secretly be wondering if the grass was greener on the other side?” “Uhh... wh-whaaat?” or “Do you feel pressured to pick a Hale, given that if you don't if might be considered an insult by your ruling pack and there could be repercussions for you and your family?” “...Can I use the bathroom?” 

Stiles is happy to escape to his personal sitting room once the interview is over. He can hear the Alphas and Betas talking somewhere else in the house but doesn't see them. There's a range of snacks laid out for him, as well as an assortment of beverages and Stiles goes to town on them. He's almost single-handedly demolished most of what was sitting out when Jackson comes to get him for more promotional shooting. 

As Stiles is being led out to the transport van where some crew are already piled up, no limo for him now that's he's already hooked, Erica comes running out of the house to grab his attention. 

“Hi, Stiles!” She's wearing sweatpants and a tank top with no make-up. She must have seen him through a window and come out right away. “How are you today?” 

“I'm good, thanks, hi. How are you?” Stiles is loving the enthusiasm, loving the moxy, loving the floppy little bun of hair on the top of her head and the way it sways when she tilts her head. 

“I'm great, Stiles! Thank you for asking!” 

Stiles and Erica both ignore Jackson as he tells Erica to return to the house, trying to physically put himself between them when that doesn't work. 

“I love your Batman tee, I'm a big DC fan. Catwoman's my favourite.” 

“Oh yeah, Catwoman is great. You know comics? That's awesome!” 

“I brought some with me, not a lot to do without a tv, you can borrow some sometime if you'd like.”

“I would, I would really like that.” 

Jackson has walkie-talkied for back-up and more producers and PAs are heading towards them to guide Erica back to the house. Erica shrugs off a hand on her arm with a snarl but says goodbye cheerfully to Stiles. 

“She's nice, huh?” Stiles says to Jackson as they head to the van. 

“Keep it for the cameras, Stilinski.” 

 

~~

 

Stiles is sharing commiserating looks with Boyd and other members of the crew by the time his little film shoot with Jackson starts to come to an end. Jackson is demanding, arrogant and rude. “Pose with your arm that way. No, the other way. No, not like that, make people want to have sex with you. What... why is your face making that expression? Can you get closer to him, Boyd? No, closer, what do you think I mean by 'closer'? What does closer mean to you?” 

Stiles is happy to be back at the compound where Lydia is waiting for him. She detours him past Craft Services, Stiles' second favourite place in the universe apart from his own bedroom, and then they're heading by cart to his granny flat. 

“I have invites for tomorrow. I just need to check with you all of your choices are locked in. Then you can get an early night's sleep.” 

“What did the Alphas do all day?” Stiles asks. 

“Oh, you know, confessionals. We had to circle through all 12 of them, then we let them get to know each other. Got lots of great footage of them talking about what a cutie you are. You are going to be in shock, Mister What-If-No-one-Wants-Me, when you see the final product.” 

Stiles finds himself blushing at that. The single date cards are for Laura and Danny, and Lydia had chosen Scott, Aiden, Peter, Derek, Isaac and Chris for the group date. 

“What if- could I get Erica on the group date? I'd really like to spend some more time with her.” 

“Of course! Instead of who?”

“Well... Scott. Aiden. Isaac. Erica. And then... I don't care. And maybe I can have a single with Duke next week?” 

“Okay, not a problem sweetheart,” Lydia is scribbling furiously on a piece of paper. “So we'll have Duke, Ethan, Cora and Chris sitting out this week. That works for you?” 

“Yeah.” Stiles had a pretty good feel for Duke, Cora and Chris, he was happy to wait to spend more time with each of them. And if Lydia hadn't asked him to keep them the twins would have gone home Day 1 probably.


	5. Day 3 - Group Date

Stiles feels bad for changing the group date last second but hears no more about it as someone drops off breakfast and figures Lydia had a handle on things. He's allowed to watch TV in that he has a DVD player and DVDs. There a ton of books. There's a copy of the cheatsheet here for him, almost half with a red 'X' through them. There's exercise equipment but Stiles doesn't even want to examine that too closely in case he hurts himself by picking it up wrong. 

He's grateful when a PA comes motoring over to pick him up with the outfit he's wearing that day. Jeans and a striped polo, Stiles can do that. Stiles is filmed casually walking up the steps to knock on the front door and let himself in, although they have to re-shoot until he perfects looking casual enough. Cameras are already set up as Stiles is directed to walk into the large sitting room of the house that is open-plan connected to the kitchen and dining area. 

Stiles is smiling but there's definite tension in the room, three cards being held by Danny, Laura and Peter. 

“Thank you so much for inviting me on a one-on-one,” Laura says first, smiling kindly. Stiles smiles back, struggling to hold the look in place with the tension getting thicker. 

“Yeah, I can't wait,” chimes in Danny. 

“Congratulations to my darling niece,” Peter announces, and he sounds sarcastic. 

Chris won't meet his eyes where he's sitting on the sofa. Scott and Isaac are next to him, beaming at Stiles. Erica looks unsure of him, standing almost in the kitchen, eyes slitted. 

Oh no, Alpha egos have been bruised. Derek, at least, looks like he's pissed that he's been included in the group date at all. 

“I- there's only so many spots,” Stiles says defensively. “And I want to get to know all of you. But I can't have a one-on-one date with all of you the first week when there's only two single dates.” No-one had a reply to that but Lydia is standing behind a camera, hands clasped and smiling dazzlingly, no doubt thinking about how they're going to play the Omega telling off a room full of other Dynamics. 

“I don't mind, Stiles,” Cora pipes up sweetly. Stiles meets her eyes and feels calmer, a small smile returning to his face. 

“Can't Ethan come on the group date as well?” Aiden asks. 

Stiles quirks an eyebrow. “No.” He wants to make a dig about going on a date with your brother instead, but manages to hold his tongue. By the thick silence in the room other people are also choosing not to comment. 

“But we're twins,” Aiden continues. “Can't it be like we're one person?” 

“One person now, as fully grown adults, because you were one zygote over two decades ago?” Stiles can't stop himself from asking. 

Aiden blinks. “Yeah.” 

Aiden is so getting cut. Well, that's one hassle down. Now Stiles just needs to choose one other person and the group date will be an excuse to go off-campus; His eyes snap to Derek, who is looking back at Stiles, making extended eye contact for the first time with a laugh written across his mouth because of Stiles' comment. 

Stiles feels his breath leave his body. Smirking like that, Derek's eyebrows are less intimidating and Stiles can see the glint of a pearly white canine between his wide lips. 

Oh no, Stiles thinks, he's hot. 

 

~~~

 

The six chosen plus Stiles are loaded into a limo with Boyd and someone handling the microphones squashed down one end and then they're leaving the house and heading... somewhere. Stiles can see the van from yesterday trailing out after them with the additional needed staff. 

“Do you know what the group date is?” Erica asks. 

“Photo shoot,” Stiles says. 

“They do it first date every season,” Derek adds. 

Stiles gawps at him. “You watch the show?” 

Derek grimaces like he's in physical pain and looks out his window. 

“Why us?” Scott asks and Stiles really wishes he hadn't. 

“Well... some of you I want to get to know better. Some of you, um, production thought it'd be good for me to get to know better.” 

“Who's who?” Isaac asks. 

“Er...” Stiles had really walked himself into this one. “Uh....” He meets Erica's eyes. “You know...” 

Erica smiles at him, catching on. “I'm happy to be here either way, Batman.”

“Happy to have you here, Catwoman.” Stiles' moment of pride at successful flirting is ruined by Isaac's small unhappy huff. Isaac's trying to be unnoticeable but it's hard not to notice as he turns to look out the window and dabs at his eyes with his scarf when they're all crammed in together. 

“So, what do you all do for work,” Stiles asks loudly. “You know anyone who's hiring?” 

The photo shoot turns out to be at a bowling alley. They don't get to go bowling though, which is bull-shit, they're just miming it or rolling the odd ball down the lane for the cameras. 

The Omega and Alpha season combine to put out a calendar each year, so the six contestants each get a month where they'll be paired with Stiles. There is February, April, June, August, October and December up for grabs. February is the hot ticket because it's Valentine's Day themed, naturally. 

The six contestants draw straws, not even bowling for the competition, to see what month they land. 

Stiles doesn’t get to know who's what, which is dumb, but gets sent back to hair and make-up privately. He then gets to wait on set, talking to the photographer about his job, until the first contestant comes back out from their own wardrobe change. 

Scott is the first with October. They're not even doing the months in order and Stiles and his ADHD-caused OCD-like obsession with patterns are over this entire date before it's even begun. Scott at least is lots of fun, talking about wanting to keep the over-sized orange jumper with a black pumpkin face on the front. Stiles has his own jacket which is black with red sequinned bats. He and Scott sit at one of the tables near the cafeteria where candy has been spilt all over it and get to snack while the photographer clicks away. 

They're genuinely laughing and they have a lot in common. They both sucked at sports in high school, both have a single parent, both love sci-fi and fantasy, both have always wanted a dog but never been allowed. 

Scott is a genuinely good person. Stiles tries to conjure up some romantic interest in the other man's happy, open face and athletic body and comes up blank. Stiles could see Scott as a future family member, but only as a brother. Stiles wonders how long he can keep Scott in the competition just to have a friend there while looking for a romantic connection. Or you know, a job. 

Aiden is April and their theme is literally bowling, which, what the hell. Who came up with this? 

Stiles is happy to tolerate Aiden if it means he gets to throw some balls down the gutter. Aiden is directed repeatedly to touch Stiles, clap him on the back, give him a high-five, give him a hug. “Get behind him, like you're teaching him how to bowl.” Stiles feels bad for all of the Omega models out there who pose with Alphas or Betas like this. Stiles allows Aiden to cuddle up behind him, the photographer actually in the lane now so Stiles can't release the ball he's gripping with both hands. 

“Smile, Stiles,” the photographer directs. “Smile, sweetheart. Smile!” 

Stiles' grimace gets wider as a compromise. 

After Aiden's shoot Stiles heads to the bathroom for some peace and quiet. After he's coaxed back out by a nameless producer Stiles procrastinates by drinking an entire bottle of water. He can't believe they're only one third of the way through. It feels like they've been here for hours already. 

Erica gets August and Stiles gets to play video games with her in the adjacent arcade. They also move back over to the cafeteria where the candy's been swept away and they share a milkshake, the 1950s dress they put Erica in with the curled ponytail making more sense now. Stiles is wearing a 1950s blazer, hair coiffed. Erica looks at Stiles through her lashes while her lipstick leaves marks on the straw and yeah, Erica isn't going home anytime soon. She smells g.r.e.a.t., Alpha pheromones all over the place. The way Boyd is breathing through his mouth to avoid using his nose, several feet away, lets Stiles know that Boyd is affected by it as well despite being a Beta. 

Derek gets June which means going out to stand in front of the bowling alley and lounge around. They've put Derek in a leather jacket which, noice, and Stiles has been talcum-powdered into some leather pants. A curl has been carefully selected to hang down over Stiles' forehead. Derek gets sunglasses. The whole dark, broody thing – totally different feel when Derek's in leather. Complete 180. Stiles hopes he isn't being too aromatically obvious with his appreciation. They've brought in a motorcycle for the shoot, some red shiny thing, that Derek and Stiles get prodded into sitting on with Stiles both in front, Derek's arms wrapped around him to grab the handlebars, and Stiles behind, clinging to Derek like a human barnacle. The photographer actually lies down to get shots with the old-fashion bowling alley sign up in the sky behind them and the red streaks of sunset behind that. 

The sun's setting. It doesn't just feel like it, they have actually been at this for hours. Stiles is pooped. 

There's still Isaac, who gets December and by extension, Christmas. Christmas seems like such an easy theme but they're in a bowling alley so they get some shots of Isaac and Stiles playing arcade games while wearing Santa hats. Isaac seems incredibly disappointed, especially once Stiles comes in from Derek's shoot wearing leather and returns for Isaac's shoot in jeans and a green T-shirt with silver tinsel sewn into the front. He's giving off massively hurt vibes as if he's taking every step of the show personally. 

It's frustrating because Stiles can't do anything to help the situation, and it's hitting a bit close to home. Isaac clearly has some self esteem issues and is creating a self-fulfilling prophecy of rejection. Stiles doesn't like looking at Isaac being petulant and seeing a mirror of a sliver of himself on of his bad days when he curses his useless university degree and lack of social life. It's making Stiles feel defensive back, wanting to physically leave but unable to and ratcheting the tension even higher. Eventually the photographer gives up on trying to get a genuinely good photo which just makes Isaac's mood even worse. 

Stiles is so ready for a nap, emotionally drained to the point of physical exhaustion, when Peter wonders out in a fluffy pink jumper. 

“What do you think? Is it my colour?” 

“I can't believe you let them put you in that,” Stiles laughs. 

“Hurry up and get changed so we can make out,” Peter orders. 

They're back to bowling for February, acting like they're on a date. Stiles has a sheer red tanktop on over black jeans. Peter is all over him like a rash, recreating the 'helping to learn how to bowl' pose he'd done with Aiden earlier. One hand is over Stiles' stomach, rucking up his shirt a little to show snail trail and the other is on Stiles' arm, caressing it. Peter's lips are on his ear, tickling, as if he were actually giving advice and Stiles can't coordinate enough to make the pose look realistic. 

The next pose is worse. Peter is sitting at the benches by the bowling ball return chute and Stiles has been instructed to straddle him. Stiles does without protest because what the hell, it's all part of the experience, and he wants to go back to his granny flat. He's willing to take the path of least resistance to get there sooner. He leans in close enough that their noses are brushing, making it look like a romantic moment, as directed. Peter keeps his eyes open and they're making eye contact as the camera shutters nearby, Boyd circling them but keeping out of the frame. 

“Can we get an actual kiss?” the Producer asks. 

“Come on Stiles, give us a peck. Pretend I'm your grandmother.” Peter murmurs, teasing. 

“You're the Alpha,” Stiles retorts. “Be the change you want to see in the world.” 

Stiles startles as Peter cups him behind the head, drawing him forward the final inch. Peter's mouth is searing and Stiles gasps at how it makes his mouth feel hot as well. He draws back swiftly, Peter's hands on his thighs squeezing a moment before letting Stiles get up on shaky legs. 

Stiles turns, feeling bright red and meets the eyes of his other five dates. The other contestants had been kept off the stage, behind portable walls next to the changing and make-up area for all the other shoots. Stiles turns back to the Producer who is smiling to themself, and then back to the other five. Isaac looks ready to cry, Scott is shocked. Derek is just glaring like normal. Aiden seems unconcerned, probably because neither Peter nor Stiles are Ethan, and Erica looks unimpressed. Peter looks smug enough that Stiles wants to slap him. 

Stiles feels too flushed, rushing out the front doors and gasping in the cool air outside. He turns away as Boyd rushes out after him, circling to catch his expression. 

“God Boyd, can you not?” 

At least Boyd sounds sincere when he says, “No. Sorry.” 

Stiles rips his microphone off and stumbles a few metres further away. He has to be coaxed back in by a PA who explains he needs to change back into the clothes he arrived in. Stiles had sworn at the Producer when they tried to talk to him. Outside on the street in the sheer red shirt and skinny leg black pants Stiles feels like a hooker. He stomps back inside and changes angrily. 

Stiles goes back outside and sits in the crew van, snarling at the Producer, “There's space in the limo!” when they try to get in as well, pulling the door shut in their face. 

The ride back to the house is silent and Stiles can't help but wonder what the contestants are saying about him in the limo, knowing he'll find out when the episodes air in two months once filming is wrapped. 

“They'll understand that it was a set-up,” Boyd says lightly. “They're not stupid. You were just doing what you were told and Peter kissed you.” 

Away from his Dad, away from his home, with his reputation in the hands of people that would set him up like that, Stiles regrets ever turning to speak to the attractive redhead behind him in the store half a year ago. 

 

~~~

 

The photos from the calendar shoot turn out amazing. Stiles gets ten for free once the show wraps. 

The first photo of Stiles' is him and Peter, neon lights of the alley glowing in the background. Stiles' eyes are hooded and his bottom lip looks like it's touching Peter's top one because of the angle of the photo. Peter is just sitting there, hands on Stiles' waist, but the look on his face in predatory. Even with Peter wearing that ridiculous fluffy jumper the photo makes Stiles' heart race and he hopes his Dad hasn't seen it, let alone been asked to comment on it by a reporter. 

His photo with Aiden is Aiden stood behind him, arm around Stiles' waist, as they make eye contact over Stiles' shoulder, both of them holing up the bowling ball with both hands. Stiles has to hand it to the photographer because it makes it look like Aiden and Stiles are sharing a real moment. 

The June photo is another gut punch. The sky is a vibrant red, clouds painted orange as a backdrop with Stiles and Derek's legs looking long and lean in the foreground of the picture. Stiles is seated behind Derek, Derek looking casually off into the middle distance but Stiles is looking down, almost submissively. Stiles thinks at the time he was just trying to read the make of the motorbike but it's been fashioned to make him look lost in deep thought like he's the male Lana Del Rey. The shot is made to look like they've stopped off while on a roadtrip, inspiring all sorts of implications and fantasies like they've run off together. 

The August photo with Erica is gorgeous. They're lit with neon again and they look like extras in Riverdale. Erica looks beautiful, and Stiles is watching her intently as they suck from different straws from the same milkshake. They're in perfect profile, almost mirror images of each other and somehow, over sweaters and motorbikes, this is his favourite photo in the calendar.

His photo with Scott for October looks like it's come from a different photo shoot. It's goofy and childish and there's no implication that at any moment the two subjects might say to hell with it and tear each others' clothes off. Scott is laughing, nose scrunched adorably, and Stiles is smiling, head tilt caught at an angle which makes his jaw look masculine and his features look proportionate. 

Isaac and Stiles' photo has Isaac playing an arcade game like whack-a-mole but with ducks, although half the ducks had been permanently missing. Isaac looks pure and innocent with his angelic face, lights from the game making his golden hair glow. Stiles is standing at his shoulder, cheering. They look like good friends or boyfriends, although Stiles remembers how stressful it had been. The creative team behind it still managed to make the photo speak a thousand words, implying all sorts of things about the two of them and their relationship. 

For all that Stiles hated the photo shoot and wanted to leave the whole show immediately afterwards, the calendar is probably one of his favourite parts of the whole experience. It's something tangible other than a DVD after the whole experience is over, and is very professional and flattering. Stiles wants to keep the copies in a specially made folder like you can with comic books and leave it in his will to his grandchildren; 'Back in the day, kids, with professional make-up and flattering lighting and 200 takes of the same shot, Pappy was a real looker if you got a little Photoshop involved.' 

On the actual day of the photo-shoot Stiles had refused to speak to the crew once they arrive back at the house, stubbornly walking himself across the grounds to his temporary flat. He had a basic kitchenette set-up like a hotel and MacGyvered himself a dinner. 

Lydia had swung by an hour later and refused to leave until he let her in, bringing food from the Crafts table. 

“Am I going to get labelled as a slut?” Stiles had asked, stowing the food in his mini-fridge for a midnight snack. 

“Of course not,” Lydia soothed. “I'm going to personally make sure that kind of thing doesn't happen again. We're still sorting a lot out on the admin side, but I'll make sure I'm there with you on-location for all future dates.” 

“What was so important that you couldn't be there, on the first date of the season?”

“We're still arranging home-dates. We need to get permission from everyone in advance, even those who'll be long gone by then. I was working on finalising all of the contracts. I am a Senior Producer, there are some important things I need to personally take care of.” 

“Personally taking care of admin, more important than personally taking care of me? You promised to have my back, Lydia and now I feel, and I'm gonna LOOK, like an idiot!” 

“It's okay, I promise. Whatever nightmare scenario you're imagining isn't going to happen. It was one tiny kiss.”

“It would have been if it had been just the two of us. Now everyone's probably over there talking about how I can't keep my lips to myself and what sort of Omega I am-”

“You're a virgin Stiles,” Lydia interjected which shut Stiles up real quick, “And more likely than not, that's going to come up on the show, you know that. Giving a little peck during roleplay early on is going to help even things out, show that you're not a prude. Now there's no undo button, but you know what'll help? Keeping Peter around for a few weeks. If you discard him immediately, you're kissing people you don't even care about enough to get to know properly.” 

Stiles breathed deep. “Okay.” 

“You're doing great Stiles. You have all tomorrow morning to yourself, then your date with Laura. Then you have the Danny date the next afternoon. Then the day after that you're having a pool party to talk to people leading into the Elimination Ceremony. Day after that, I promise, you can go into town. You'll need to be supervised but one of the perks of being the Omega, you get to leave and you can go shopping, go to a museum, whatever you want.” The show wouldn't air until after filming had wrapped so apart from adverts Stiles wouldn't be recognised. The residents of the local town would have to be used to the Alphas and Omegas from Tying The Knot wandering around on day-release by now. 

Stiles sat heavily on his dining chair, nodding at the table-top. It seemed like a tiny reprieve and a lifetime away. 

“Stiles, don't feel bad. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity and you could be having the best time if you let yourself.” 

Stiles nodded at the tabletop again. “Yeah.” 

“Keep your chin up. Don't be your own worst enemy right now.” 

“I'm, yeah. I'm just so exhausted from today. I need to sleep and have a shower, get this hair gel out, and I'll be a whole new person.”

“Promise?” Lydia smiles at him. 

“Promise.” As the door shuts after Lydia Stiles ponders the logistics of escaping a reality tv show mansion by stealing a golf cart. Not tonight, because right now he is ready to sleep for the next week, but it's a good back-up plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So let me know who your final 4 are! The story's already all planned out but feel free to advocate for you favourite pairing or speculate wildly based on the story. I'd love to hear about it in the comments.


	6. Day 4 & 5 - Single Dates

Stiles sleeps through the morning. Lydia lets him know she tried to bring him breakfast earlier but he hadn't woken up to open the door. She's brought lunch and Stiles tears into it with gusto. 

“It's your date with Laura today! Are you excited? Her producer, Braeden, is going to be joining us.”

“What's the date?” 

“We've got a little picnic planned at a carnival showground then you can go on any rides you like, as long as you include the ferris wheel and bumper cars. It's been reserved so you two are the only ones there.” 

“Wow.” 

“We're going to finish up with some fireworks. Sound good?” 

Stiles' outfit is once again chosen for him; a red t-shirt, blue jeans, brown leather jacket and brown leather shoes. Even the socks are good quality, nice and thick. He's also been given a cowboy hat to wear which Stiles stares at distrustfully. 

“Why?” Stiles asks, gesturing with it as they ride towards the house. 

“I think wardrobe was told to play up the country-boy vibe.”

“I'm not from the country?” 

“Small town vibe, then.” 

“I'm the small town boy next door?” 

“Yeah.”

“Not the... suave and charismatic Omega who'd look at home strolling the streets of Manhattan?” 

Lydia laughs at that. “No.” 

“Hmph.” Stiles puts the hat on even though it draws attention to his gangliness and in his opinion, makes him look like a hick. 

Stiles gets to stand outside the house holding an empty picnic basket, cameras pointed at him, as Laura emerges from the house. She is wearing a denim skirt, purple plaid button-up, cowboy boots and a matching hat. Her hair is as shiny and silky as Stiles remembers from the cocktail party on the first night, rolling in waves over her shoulders. 

They travel by limo to the carnival which is about an hour away. The van with staff are trucking along behind them so only Boyd and the sound operator are in the back of the limo with them, both of the crew members focusing on their equipment rather than Stiles and Laura. 

Stiles and Laura are able to have an actual conversation. Stiles has never been good at extended small talk but Laura must have practice from meeting with clients; she keeps the ball rolling on neutral subjects, filling in blanks and taking over the conversation to redirect it as needed. Stiles is the most relaxed he's been since arriving. Stiles' opinion of Laura increases; she'd make an amazing Alpha. 

The limo drive ends up being too short. Once they exit they are swamped by Lydia and Braeden pulling them apart to talk to them separately, someone fixing up hair and make-up. There's two camera operators as well as a series of fixed mounted cameras at certain points throughout the carnival grounds. Stage lights are set up alongside the cameras, crew with large reflective white screens standing by. There's a table with food, even here, propped up in seconds. 

A very full picnic basket is handed off to Laura to carry and they make their way to a patch of grass where a picnic blanket is already set up. Bowls of flowers, weaved baskets of fruit, and tasselled pillows are set up around the edge of the blanket already to help weigh it down. A huge hulking camera is already set up, lights on. Two people stand on the other side of the blanket with the reflective screens, as close as they can be without being in shot. One has their trainers on the blanket itself. 

“Talk about what a lovely picnic Stiles has set up,” Braeden directs, standing next to one of the screen-holders. 

“Everything okay, Stiles?” Lydia asks where she's standing next to Boyd who is kneeling at a corner of the blanket, some flowers shoved out of the way. 

“Yuh-huh.” Stiles feels claustrophobic.

“This is a beautiful picnic, Stiles,” Laura says easily. “Thank you so much for choosing this for our date.” The same confidence and poise she has for social interactions make her an amazing actress. Her lines just roll off her tongue. 

“Umm. Well, you know...” Stiles had had nothing to do with anything and had been told about it an hour beforehand. Laura must know that, she couldn't believe Stiles had set it up when they'd travelled to the carnival together. “You're welcome. I'm glad you like it.” 

There's a pause while a PA unloads the picnic, setting everything out on plates. A platter of fruit, cheese and jam appears out of nowhere to be placed in the centre of the blanket. There's a plate of sushi as well that hadn't been in the basket. Cutlery and napkins are laid out on paper plates. Boyd leans in to get close ups of everything, including the champagne flutes that are shoved into their hands. 

“Feel free to lay on your side, really relax,” Lydia instructs. 

“In a little while,” Laura shrugs off the recommendation easily. 

Sushi already has a piece of sushi in his mouth, another in his hand, ready to reload. 

“So where are you staying while we're filming?” 

Stiles forces himself to dry swallow what's left of the first piece. “I've got a little apartment-type thing on the grounds. Like a granny-flat.”

“So you're actually near the house? I thought they'd taken you somewhere else, further away.”

“No, I'm trapped the same as all of you. What- actually, what's it like in the house? I'm dying of curiousity.” 

“It's awful. There's no space. We all have roommates. There's groceries in the fridge, but none of the regular stuff I usually eat but we still have to cook for ourselves. No TV, no internet, no phones. I've been spending more time with Derek and Cora than I have since we were kids. That's what it like, being a kid again, living with all my siblings and uncle.”

Stiles laughs. 

Laura continues, “I've been playing a lot of board-games. Turns out I'm terrible at Scrabble.”

“Me too. I can never concentrate for that long. I love Monopoly though.”

“Oh, Monopoly. The game to play when you want to make enemies of friends.” 

“So tell me... you're funny. Smart, successful. Beautiful. A Hale. How are you single?” 

Laura pushes hair back from her face. “It's difficult. Life doesn't turn out the way you want it to. You have this plan for how your life is going to go but being an adult is so much harder than you ever could have imagined. I'm successful because I work too much. A lot of people are too intimidated to talk to me. I've also got to be cautious about why people are trying to make a connection. Being a Hale especially, it's surprisingly lonely. I have such a hard time making friends around my world schedule, I never even really bother trying to form a relationship.” 

Stiles nods contemplatively. He tried to imagine being too successful, too famous, too smart and beautiful to the point it gets in your own way. He can't relate, but it sounds difficult. 

“You must have a million friends. You're so easy to talk to. I saw you at the cocktail party, the way you were just talking to person after person. I could never have managed that. I'd have been so flustered. I haven't even managed to make a real connection while at the house. I've been mostly spending time with my family. But Cora and Erica are always hanging out. Peter and Deucalion are usually off somewhere together. Even Derek is spending time with Isaac and Scott. I thought the twins, Ethan and Aiden, would be inseparable but one of them and Danny eat every meal together.” 

Stiles wants to comfort Laura but he has so many questions. “What's everyone like, at the house, since you live with them? Can you give me some insider knowledge?” 

Laura hasn't even opened her mouth before Lydia and Braeden both say, “No.” 

“Aw, come on you guys,” Stiles pleads. 

“No, you're on a date with the two of you, you need to talk about the two of you,” Lydia says. 

“Stiles,” Braden asks, “Would you move with Laura for work if she proposes to you on the final date? Laura, why don't you ask about that?” 

Laura shoots Stiles a look of mutual aggravation before letting out a tiny sigh. “So Stiles, you said you live with your Dad? Would you be willing to move in with me to my apartment if we end up together?”

“Um... could my Dad come?” 

Laura laughs. “No, I think if were to be Mated I'd like it to just be the two of us for a while. Is your Dad- he's not... you don't need to be there to look after him, do you?” 

“Oh, no! No he's... he's got a job and everything. I mean, I left him alone for two and a half months while we do the show. It's just, we're all each other has. I wouldn't want to leave him on his own forever. I make sure he eats vegetables and doesn't drink too much.” Stiles immediately regrets his honesty. If it gets to air, the implication that Sheriff Stilinski might have a drinking problem, his Dad is going to kill him. 

“That makes it sound like you expect to live with him until he's... not here anymore. You'll be, what, 50? 60? That's when you'll be able to move out? I'm sure your Dad doesn't expect that of you.” 

“Yeah, I'm sure you're right.” Laura is right, but Stiles resents her a little for pointing it out so bluntly. Maybe part of him did think he'd always be right there for his dad and so far his life trajectory hasn't meant he's needed to confront that assumption.

The date is slightly awkward after that. After eating and drinking, Lydia encouraging them to feed each other strawberries, they shut down and wait for night to fall completely. While they wait for the sun to move from painting the clouds different colours to being completely gone Stiles and Laura get to go to the port-a-potties and debrief with their producers. 

They're kept separated until it's pitch black and the cameras can catch their interactions again. Stiles spends the time watching them drag the mounted camera from the field to one of the amusement rides. 

Stiles is so excited to go on the bumper cars but as soon as he gets on he realises how lame it is with just two people. The ferris wheel is a ferris wheel, a camera mounted within the carriage pointing at the side Laura and Stiles have to sit on. They go on several more rides and play a few sideshow games, Laura handing Stiles the giant duck the game operator lets her win for the show. 

They're seated on the same picnic blanket for the fireworks, relocated to the edge of the field. Champagne and chocolates are displayed instragram-worthy on a small table in front of them. They're given one small blanket to cuddle close to beneath. Stiles tries to focus on the fireworks and keeps looking up even as a camera is shoved in their faces for a close-up of their awed expressions. 

To finish off the date Stiles and Laura are filmed walking down the main path, tracks laid down for the mounted camera to follow their path smoothly. “If you want her to kiss you, this is the moment for you to act super-kissable,” Lydia had told him while watching him spray himself with mosquito repellent.

They get to the end of the camera track and pause where they'd been told to, the camera about a metre away. The square lens looks like a giant unblinking alien eye. 

“I've had so much fun with you,” Stiles says. 

For the first time Stiles' watches Laura look unsure of herself. From the corner of his eye he can see Braeden making 'come on' gestures. 

“If you don't want to kiss me, you don't have to,” Stiles whispers although the microphone clipped to him means they have no true privacy.

“I would like to kiss you,” Laura says, “but this is the first time I've ever had a real conversation with you...” 

“I understand,” Stiles says. He feels a little disappointed but Laura has a good point. “How many dates until you normally kiss someone?” 

Laura smiles and leans close. “It depends on the person. I guess you'll just have to wait and find out.” Laura leans close like she is actually going to kiss him, but then diverts and brushes her lips against his cheek. The date ends with a hug. 

Stiles gets herded into the staff van. More than half of the staff including Braeden get in the limo. 

“Why?” Stiles asks, petulant. 

Lydia explains, “We just filmed such a lovely little conclusion to the date, with the carnival lights in the background, ferris wheel all lit up. It'd be confusing to the audience if there was more story after the ending.” 

About halfway back to the house Boyd leans over. “She's right, you know,” nodding at Lydia who has moved to the back of the van for privacy. Lydia has one phone to her ear and is texting on another. “You don't want to be alone with Laura after the date you just had.”

“What? Why?” 

“Being alone at the carnival makes everything feel heightened. You just got VIP treatment with everything shut down just for you guys plus your own private fireworks show. You just had a magical date, because a ton of people set it up to make it that way. It makes you feel special, makes everything more intense. Once you go up, you gotta come down. Close quarters, trapped with a lot of emotion, it's very easy for it to turn volatile.”

“You think we'd fight if we were in the limo together?” Stiles is shocked. 

“It can happen. Wait and you'll see. If you have a boring date with someone they'll put you in the same car for the ride home in order to get some decent footage. Whether that's kissing or fighting.”

“But what if-”

“What are you boys discussing over there?” Lydia calls out loudly, face severe.

Boyd is silent. 

“Nothing Lydia,” Stiles answers. “Boyd was telling me about past seasons, and the type of dates those contestants had.”

Lydia narrows her eyes, not buying it. “That sounds great, Boyd. Remind me of some of the noteworthy dates of past contestants.”

“Um...” There's a very long pause. “Well you remember, Kira, the last Omega? She had that one date with two suitors, and refused to get rid of one of them like she was supposed to? So you guys had all three of them ride back to the house in the same car, and the two Alphas actually attacked each other? And that one guy got chucked out by default because he had to go to the hospital.” 

Stiles remembered that. It had been one of the highest rated episodes of the season. Stiles had been genuinely scared for Kira as he watched the two Alphas tear into each other with Kira trying to flatten herself into the seat, curled up in a ball. 

“Didn't the other guy get asked to leave because of the fighting, anyway? So they both went home,” Stiles adds. 

“You did your research,” Lydia comments. 

“Well, yeah. Stiles loves his research.” 

“Lydia loves it when Stiles doesn't talk about himself in the third person,” Lydia snarks. 

Once Lydia turns back to texting Stiles nods at Boyd. Boyd had made his point about riding together in limos. 

The fourth producer whose name Stiles still hasn't caught golf-carts Stiles back to his granny flat. “Just so you know,” the guy says, “They've set it up so all the other Alphas and Betas are waiting for Laura to get home to ask about how her date went. First date of the season and all. Don't be surprised if your date tomorrow knows all about it.” 

“Oh. Right. What time is it?” 

“It's about one in the morning.” 

“And they kept everyone up 'til Laura got home?”

The producer shrugs like it's normal. “Yeah.” 

“You know if you guys let me drive myself to my flat, I could keep the cart there and drive myself to set the next morning.” 

The producer laughs. “No. We need to know where you are, and the easiest way for that to happen is for you to stay where we left you. We don't need you getting bored and wandering off. I don't know if you know this but there's guards set up outside the house to stop you and the contestants playing Romeo and Juliet and having secret dates with each other or trying to give each other STDs. So don't even think about it.” 

“... I wasn't.” In addition to his phone, Stiles isn't allowed a watch unless wardrobe decides to include one. Stiles doesn't have access to a calendar either. This whole thing is starting to feel like a psychological experiment. 

 

~~~

 

Lydia is more persistent the next day, pounding on the with one hand while the other balances a tray until Stiles wakes up and unlocks the door. 

“I'd have let you sleep but we need to film your confessional for the date yesterday and then we've got to get you changed for your date with Danny.” 

Lydia had brought him his outfit for the confessional; navy blue pants and a beige knitted jumper over a white tee. The hair stylist had pushed his hair back and slicked it into place. Deaton runs through what Stiles assumes are the regular questions, “Did you like her? Do you think she'll be getting a rose? Is Laura everything you've ever wanted in a Mate?” and then more specific, “Tell us what you were feeling while on the ferris wheel together. What were you thinking, sitting next to Laura as the fireworks went off? Do you wish she had kissed you?” 

“Of course I wanted Laura to have kissed me. She's a very kissable person.”

“What do you think the problem is then?” Deaton asks in his calm, measured tone. “Do you think you're just not very kissable?” 

Stiles goes to wardrobe feeling unsure of himself. He and Laura had had such a great date. Why hadn't they kissed when Stiles had so clearly been hoping for it? 

'She did kiss you,' Stiles reminds himself, 'on the cheek, and she explained she doesn't kiss on the first date. Why are you so up-set about it?' They're getting into his head. 

There are two options for Danny's date, and he tries both of them on before Lydia and the seamstress agree on option One. It's a maroon suit so dark it's almost red. Stiles gets black dress shoes and a black skinny tie over a pale blue shirt that's almost white. 

Wardrobe is set up in a room near Stiles' sitting room, both located within the house itself. He gets to walk outside and then walk back in, captured on film, to meet Danny inside. 

Everyone is gathered on the sofas, Danny nowhere to be soon. Oh, good. 

“He'll be down in five minutes,” announces the nameless producer. 

“Where are you going tonight?” Cora asks. “Is it the same carnival as yesterday with Laura?” 

“Uh, no. We're going out to dinner.” 

“Where?” Isaac asks. 

“They haven't told me yet.”

“It's probably somewhere fancy,” Isaac mutters, and he sounds jealous. 

“You look delectable in that suit of yours,” Peter flirts, sidling up next to him. 

Stiles tugs at his tie. “Thanks.” 

“I can't decide if I'd like you dressed up like that when it's my turn to take you out, or if I'd prefer you in a lot, lot less.” 

Stiles blushes. 

“Peter!” Derek hisses at his uncle. 

“Maybe you won't even be here next week to get a date,” Chris says and wow, clearly some people aren't getting along. 

“I think I'm more likely to be here than you will.” 

Stiles notes that Peter doesn't turn to face Chris entirely, the oldest Hale keeps himself mostly turned to face the camera. 

It's obvious when Danny is about to appear because the walkie-talkies start up and the cameraman is turning the rig to face the stairs. Another camera stays on Stiles' face as Danny descends. Danny's suit is a golden bronze, with a black button-up and black tie. He's handsome enough to pull it off. 

Danny walks up to Stiles and offers an arm which Stiles takes. “Let's get out of here, huh?” Danny casts an eye over the living room. “I don't feel like sharing.” 

They walk outside arm in arm. However the limo hasn't arrived yet so they have to go back in and wait a few minutes and then walk back out the front doors. 

“There's a special surprise on this trip,” Jackson tells them where he's sitting with Boyd and the sound person. He'd refused to ride in the van when there was space in the limo. “You guys ever flown on a helicopter before?”

The helicopter trip was over too quickly. Even on a helicopter a camera was installed to film them. It was like being on a giant, noisy ferris wheel travelling a large distance. Danny and Stiles were too busy staring out their windows to do much talking. They had earpieces in to hear what was coming across on the other person's mic, and the Producers could say things to them as well. 

“We need you to look at each and talk about how you've never flown before,” Jackson is demanding. 

They get in another limo on the other side, a camera-person and sound-person already inside. Stiles wonders if the distance they'd travelled necessitated a helicopter or if they have a quota of helicopter rides per season. Case in point: Lydia, Jackson and the other crew hadn't flown in a second helicopter yet they arrived at the restaurant shortly after Stiles and Danny did. They've ended up at some fancy French restaurant and Lydia tells them to keep saying the name of the place while on the date. The restaurant has other people in it, unlike the carnival yesterday, but Stiles recognises at least one of the couples as people who work on the show... 

A space is cleared in front of the musician playing piano, and Jackson instructs Danny to ask Stiles to dance. Danny is just slightly taller than Stiles, which he likes, and is a very good dancer. Stiles is not. He hopes they're getting good footage of Danny with his hands on Stiles' waist teaching him some basic steps. 

“Your cologne is to die for,” Stiles comments, thought slipping out before he can catch it. 

Danny smiles at him, eyes glinting, and Stiles feel himself swoon a little.

They get called back to the table as plates are being set down. 

“But we didn't order,” Danny objects. 

“The restaurant chooses the dishes, since they're doing this for free. Don't worry, they're the most popular dishes, they'll be great,” Lydia tells him. 

Danny is visibly disappointed until he takes the first bite. “Wow, that is good.”

Stiles and Danny are served six courses in total. Danny suggests they order some of the ridiculously expensive cocktails since they're free, and Stiles agrees happily. They make their way down the cocktail list, choosing alternating ones and taking sips from each other's so they try as many as possible. 

Danny gets even funnier and more handsome the further down the cocktail list they get. Stiles is snort-laughing as they make up fake flavour profiles for pretentious restaurants when Jackson interrupts. 

“We can't use any of this,” he hisses at them, kneeling by the table. “You're drunk,” he aims at Stiles. “Stop ordering booze and drink some water and coffee. Jesus. This is not attractive Omega behaviour.” 

Stiles blinks owlishly at him. “I'm having a good time,” he says, feeling the syllables rolling solidly out of his own mouth. He looks around for Lydia but she's been outside for about 20 minutes making and taking phone calls. 

“We're just letting our hair down,” Danny frowns.

“You're doing great,” Jackson says to Danny, “but you can hold your liquor. Unlike other people, who look like they're about to fall out of their chair.” 

Stiles pokes at the uneaten portion of his pork dish. 

“Maybe we can dance for a little bit,” Danny suggests, taking Stiles' hand and pulling him up from the table. 

They go back to the dance floor and Danny brings Stiles in close. They're basically swaying while hugging. They don't so much kiss as their mouths fall against each other and then slip away. 

“You taste like ham,” Stiles says intelligently. 

Danny laughs. “You are drunk.”

“Your fault.” Stiles leans in and captures Danny's mouth with his. This tipsy he can forget about the cameras. This is why they're always drinking on these shows. Coping mechanism. 

“Well maybe I can make up for that,” Danny whispers when they break apart and then they're kissing again and there's tongue. Stiles feels like Danny's tongue is licking up the inside of his spine, but in a very hot and sexy way that doesn't imply gore. Heat is pooling at the base of his spine and the base of his dick. He hopes they don't air his erection on national television. 

During dessert Stiles asks about what it's like at the house. 

“It's really fun, really great. Everyone's really cool. Lots of great people.” 

“Laura said you and the twins are good friends.” 

“Oh, she did?” Danny suddenly sounds unsure of himself. “Yeah. Me and Ethan have been hanging out. We're room-mates. Aiden's kind of jealous. He had a little bit of a fit when I refused to swap with him so they could room together. I'm pretty sure you'll get to see that for yourself on TV.” 

Stiles laughs. “They seem a little overly-attached.” 

“I haven't found that. What specifically did you want to know about living at the house?” 

“Everything! I'm so curious! What time do you guys get up, what do you eat for breakfast? I'm in solitary confinement all day. Make me feel like I'm actually there.” 

After dessert and a hot chocolate for Stiles, flat white for Danny, they're making their way back to the limo. 

“You're riding in the van,” Jackson tells Stiles, gripping his arm and dragging him towards it. Danny looks after him forlornly. 

“You don't want more footage of me and Danny-boy macking on each other in the limo?” Stiles asks. 

“We're gonna leave the footage of you and the Alphas dry-humping til we're down to the final four,” Jackson snarks back. 

“Don't jerk him around like that,” Lydia scold Jackson, slapping at his hand on Stiles' arm. 

“Yeah, man, respect the merchandise.” Stiles shrugs in his jacket to straighten it out. 

“You ride in the van with him seeing as he's yours. I'm going in the limo with mine.” 

Lydia scoffs but climbs into the van. “So how was it? You like Danny?” she asks once they're both in, other staff climbing in after them. 

“I like Danny a LOT,” Stiles says as he lies down on the back seat. 

“How much? Final four a lot?” 

“Final two a lot.”

“That's great, Stiles!” 

Stiles mumbles agreement. He doesn't remember falling asleep but wakes up with a jerk and finds himself parked in front of the house. 

“How long was I asleep?” he asks groggily. 

“About an hour and a half.” 

“That's not long,” Stiles frowns. 

“It takes longer to get there than get back because you don't have to stop to get on and off a helicopter or listen to safety instructions.” 

“Oh.” 

“Get up Stiles. Pool party tomorrow, super exciting. You need your beauty sleep.”

“Ughhhh.”


	7. Day 6 - Cocktail Party & Selection Ceremony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cora's a few years younger here than Stiles (I put at her about 21ish). I varied the ages of the contestants so it was more similar to an actual reality dating show. It doesn't come up a lot, but this is probably the biggest change that affects the story.

Stiles is doing more confessionals, recounting his date with Danny and comparing it to Laura's. It hasn't even been a week and Stiles is sick of talking with Dr Deaton. He's so casual while looking expectantly at Stiles, asking Stiles to bare his soul. 

“Could Laura be your Mate?”

“Definitely.” 

“Could Danny be your one true Mate?” 

“100%.” 

Deaton looks at Stiles slightly harder. “It has to be one or the either.” 

Stiles sighs. “I don't know yet. I like both of them.” 

“Which date did you prefer? The carnival or dinner?” 

“The carnival. Because fireworks.” 

“So even though you and Laura had less of a physical connection, you still had more fun with her?” 

“...Sure.” 

“Stiles,” Deaton says. “The process doesn't work if you don't commit to it. We need honesty and sincerity.” 

Stiles wriggles in his seat until he's worked out all his excess frustration in the form of physical fidgeting. “Okay.” 

Stiles is happy to escape to his sitting room where Lydia had said a choice of swimsuits would be waiting. He's not expecting Erica and Boyd to be inside, talking. They're sitting on the couch helping themselves to snacks. 

“Why are you guys in here?” Stiles asks. 

Boyd bounces to his feet. He looks like he's going to say something but coughs then walks out. 

“I could smell the pastries from outside. I love me some Danishes,” Erica says, still leaning back leisurely. 

Stiles gasps at the depleted pile. “You didn't eat all the custard ones, right?” 

Erica finishes what she has in her hand. “I don't know if there were any custard ones...” she says around a mouth full.  
Stiles can only stare at her, aghast at the violation of trust here in his sanctuary. “Get out, Erica!” he says but without any real heat to it. 

“If you're trying to decide between swimming costumes, may I suggest this one,” Erica says, picking up a Speedo and winking before departing. 

There are three options. Stiles goes with the loose aqua blue shorts that come a third of the way down his thighs, baring more leg that any other swimsuit Stiles has ever worn ever has. There was also the swimsuit version of tighty-whities and the Speedo, cut high on the hips so there was only an inch or so of fabric on the sides. 

“You didn't really expect me to choose the Speedo, right?” Stiles asks Lydia when he emerges after stuffing himself with pastries, wishing he had a towel to wrap around his waist. He'd compromised by putting back on the tee-shirt he'd been wearing that morning. 

“It was tactical; I could never have convinced you to put those shorts on if it'd been your only choice. But I put it next to a Speedo, and you'll put them on happily.” 

Stiles' jaw drops. He'd been played, and his legs are cold. 

“So we've got all of the contestants out in the backyard,” Lydia says. “We've set it up so that two contestants can win some two-on-one time with you in the hot tub. Whoever works best together wins, and so hopefully that means the twins will win and we can get you in that hot tub with them like Bobby wants and then you can get rid of them whenever you like.” 

“Cool. Cool. Cool. So you rigged the game?” 

“No. They won't definitely win. But if they don't, they're morons.” 

“What are they doing?” 

“It's a two-legged race but it's an entire obstacle course.” 

Stiles laughs. “Can I watch?” 

“No, we don't have cameras set up for that. We didn't know when you'd finish with Deaton. They'll be finishing up soon. They're going to meet you in the gazebo.”

The gazebo has shiny orange fabric hanging like curtains all around it, blocking out the garden. Inside there are fake candles flickering and roses in a vase. There's also more food and an ice bucket with wine. An esky is tucked down behind a chair and filled with beer. 

“Then why am I already in my trunks?” Stiles asks as he sits down. Lydia pulls a curtain back so that Boyd can ease in, standing behind a chair. A boom operator follows him in, watching the boom pole closely so he doesn't take the make-shift tent down. 

“For atmosphere,” Lydia explains as she manoeuvres the chairs back into position now they have members of the crew standing behind them. Stiles looks around and can see there's also a fixed camera staring at him, attached to the top of a lamp. There's another one looking down from above the entry arch. 

“I assume that,” Stiles points at the boom pole, “is because you can't attach a microphone to me if I'm shirtless.” 

“Correct. Never let anyone tell you you're just a pretty face,” Lydia smiles, letting her eyes fall to Stiles' shirt. “Speaking of...”

“I'm keeping the shirt on until I get in the hot tub.” Stiles crosses his arms. 

“Then I'll go get the twins and bring them in here.” 

Stiles sits in silence, Boyd occasionally grunting as he shifts the camera into a more comfortable position on his shoulder. It looks heavy. Boyd has a brace around his abdomen that it looks like the camera attaches to. 

“Do you know Erica from the outside?” Stiles eventually asks. 

Boyd meets his eyes and then his gaze flits away. “No.” 

“Oh. So what were you guys talking about? Show stuff?” 

“...Yeah.” 

“Does that room get used for meetings? I was told it was mine. Anyway, was there custard Danishes when you first went in there?” 

Boyd is saved from answering by Braeden popping her head in. “Stiles, the twins won the competition. They're incoming. Get ready, okay? Big and happy that they've won. Act surprised.” 

“If she wanted me surprised, why tell me?” Stiles asks the room at large. 

Aiden and Ethan arrive a minute later, ducking in and taking a seat each. They're already is swim trunks that reach down to their knees. 

“Hi guys. Congratulations,” Stiles says. 

“Thanks Stiles,” one of them answers. 

A long silence elapses. 

“So... it was an obstacle course?” Stiles asks. 

“Yeah.” 

Stiles watches as the twins help themselves to food and beer. 

“You want one?” one asks, tilting a bottle. 

“Why not.” Stiles think the whole situation would be a lot more tolerable if he was drunk. There's a bottle opener tucked in with the ice. 

“What's it like being the Suitor of the season?” one asks. 

“Good.”

“I wish I got to go to the carnival. It sounds awesome. All I got was that stupid calendar date. How lame was that, right?” 

“Danny told me all about his date. I'd love to go out for dinner. I just want to be able to leave the house, you know?” 

“I thought it'd be like a holiday being here. But it doesn't feel like that anymore,” Stiles agrees. 

“Yeah, I know what you mean. There's no privacy. At all!”

Braeden ducks in, kneeling at the entrance where she's out of the way of Boyd's camera. “Do you guys want to try talking about life outside the mansion? What about your families?” 

“Our parents are dead,” one says. 

“My Mum's dead,” Stiles says. 

“Lame,” one says. 

“Total bummer.” Stiles pops his mouth before sucking on his beer. 

Braeden facepalms and Stiles remembers her doing the same thing with Duke on the first night. 

“If you guys could get rid of one person, who would it be? Keep one, dump one? Who would you guys choose?” Stiles asks. 

“I like Duke,” one says. “Get rid of Derek.” 

“Derek sucks,” agrees the other. “I'd keep Danny and get rid of Isaac.” 

“Why?”

“Derek and Isaac are total buzzkills. Danny is super sweet, super likable.” 

“Duke is cool. He's kind of fatherly, you know?” 

“You'd keep Duke in a dating competition because he's a father figure to you?” Stiles asks. 

“Oh. Right.” 

“Okay,” Braeden butts in. “We're not getting anything usable. You guys want to head over to the hot tub?” 

“Yes!” the twins chorus and fist bump. They each pick up one side on the esky with beer and carry it out. 

Stiles watches them go. “Can I choose both of them to not get roses?” Stiles whispers to Braeden. 

Braeden looks pained. “Please don't.” 

Stiles belatedly realises they must be Braeden's contestants to produce. Stiles grimaces apologetically at her. 

“Also, you need to take your top off,” she says. She pulls the chairs out for Boyd and the boom guy to escape and then all three leave. 

Stiles takes a long minute, nibbling on one of the fancy loaded-up crackers and finishing his beer before joining everyone outside. 

The twins are in the hot tub, splashing each other with one hand, beer in the other. Stiles waits until they stop before clambering in. 

“Yeah, woooo!” the twins holler as Stiles sits down. 

“Thanks for the enthusiasm.” 

“You're not bad looking,” one says. 

“I don't find you repulsive, either.” 

“Thanks.” The twin smiles charmingly. 

The other twin turns the bubbles on. They bubble up but not fully. The twin jams the button in harder. 

“It's deliberately set to a low level,” Braeden calls out to get him to stop. “Otherwise the noise can interfere with the sound equipment.”

Stiles looks up at the boom bobbing in the air above them. 

“Lame,” the bubble button twin on the left mutters.

“Can we get the two of you on either side of Stiles, all in one frame?” Braeden asks. The twins move around until Stiles is sandwiched in between them. Stiles is taller but the twins are stacked and Stiles feels tiny. Their biceps are probably thicker than Stiles' thighs. 

Stiles hopes he's not being too obvious checking out the guys' abs. There's no sexual interest, merely comparative. How do you even get abs like that? 

A beer is being shoved in his hand. Stiles looks over where Braeden and Lydia are talking quietly, peeking over at three of them occasionally. 

“Do you guys work out a lot? You look like you could bench press me.” 

“Oh yeah? You into that?” Lefty asks. 

“Um. No. I'm just saying... I'm really sucking in my gut here. You guys don't look like you have that problem.” 

“We do an hour of exercise a day. At least. Lots of strength training.”

“Diet is so important. We're doing keto at the moment. Zero carbs.” 

“Oh wow. Well kudos to you. I'd rather have bread I think, than a six pack.”

That makes the both of them laugh. 

“You gotta eat fruit and vegetables sometimes, though. We know a guy who got scurvy,” Righty says. 

It's Stiles' turn to laugh. How ridiculous. Trying to be healthy, achieve peak physical form and as a side effect getting scurvy. It hits Stiles right in the funny bone. He can't stop, tears welling in his eyes while the twins just look at him and then at each other, judging him.

“It's not funny, man. He lost a tooth!” 

Stiles is trying to explain how hilarious he finds the idea of being health conscious to the point you exclude fruit and vegetables but he can't get enough air to get the words out. Everytime he starts a word it breaks off in a wheeze. 

Braeden and Lydia are asking the twins to flirt a little but Stiles hasn't stopped laughing yet. One has his arm slung around Stiles' neck, weighing him down, but Stiles is just guffawing into the bubbles. It's not just the scurvy. It's the whole situation. Everything is so ridiculous. Artificial. From the lack of thorns on the roses to the hot tub that's been tampered with. Stiles has been promised the lifestyle equivalent of health and hotness but the reality is he's at risk of contracting relationship scurvy. 

Stiles is clambering out of the hot tub, still giggling, and wandering inside before the producers can persuade him back in. 

“Bathroom,” he wheezes out and heads inside, dripping everywhere. This isn't real life. He's in the Twilight zone. A PA is already on their hands and knees behind him, wiping up the drops with a towel. This must be what a king feels like. An imprisoned, manipulated king. 

In the bathroom Stiles uses the toilet then stares at himself in the mirror. This close it's obvious he's wearing some sort of make-up, waterproof naturally, to stop him appearing shiny on camera. It's like real-life airbrushing. Everything is artificial here. 

Stiles sighs. He ignores Lydia's knocking on the door for as long as he can before opening the door. 

“Are you alright?” she asks, looking genuinely concerned. “If anything's up-setting your stomach the nurse has all sorts of pills.” 

“Of course they do.”

“We could talk to Dr Deaton, he's an actual doctor, he could prescribe you something if you need some help.” 

Stiles shakes his head. “I don't need drugs.”

“I'm just letting you know it's an option.” 

“I want to go back outside.” Inside the house Stiles suddenly feels claustrophobic. 

Outside all the contestants are there now and Stiles wants to go back inside. Someone hands him a drink, some tall blue thing with an umbrella. Stiles drinks it up. It doesn't taste like alcohol so Stiles knows it must be very alcoholic. He finishes that one in about a minute, turns out he's thirsty, and goes looking for the server with more of them. 

Jackson has his walkie talkie grasped in his hand and stops Stiles from picking up a second blue drink. “You've already had at least one beer and cocktail. Why don't you have something to eat? Think of the cocktails as for the contestants. We need you still standing for the selection ceremony in several hours.” 

Stiles nods, smiling sweetly. As soon as Jackson leaves Stiles trails after the server and takes another drink. 

He's sitting with Scott, Isaac and Danny, chatting away and taking the occasional sip when Braeden comes by, taking the drink out of his hand and replacing it with an identical one. She winks at him and trots off. Stiles sips his new drink carefully. It tastes similar, but different. After a few more sips Stiles realises it's a virgin cocktail. It lacks the bite of the other ones. 

“What's that?” Isaac asks. 

“It's non-alcoholic. They're concerned I'm going to be blitzed for the ceremony this evening.”

“Well that makes sense,” Danny says.

“More for us,” Scott jokes.

“Do you know who you're getting rid of?” Isaac asks intently. 

Stiles licks his lips nervously and remembers what Lydia had said. “It's not so much getting rid of people as picking people, and there not being enough spots for everyone.” 

“But... who are not getting those spots?” Isaac asks doggedly. 

“I don't think I'm allowed to tell you,” Stiles answers. They probably did tell him that at some point. 

Isaac is silent while the others talk and then interjects into a discussion about burger joints, “It's me, isn't it? You're getting rid of me.”

Stiles frowns. “I haven't decided yet.” That's the truth. He's definitely getting rid of Aiden. Maybe he'll get rid of Ethan. Chris doesn't appear to want to be here. Neither does Derek. Cora seems a bit young. Peter might be interested in Stiles, but not as a Mate and his intensity is a bit off-putting. And yes, Isaac, who doesn't seem to be holding up well under the pressure, is also up on the chopping block. 

'Stop creating a self-fulfilling prophecy,' Stiles wants to say to Isaac but holds it back. “I should go speak to other people,” he says instead and gets up. 

Duke is right there waiting for him. Duke, being led by Braeden, leads Stiles over to a couch in the corner. 

After they sit Duke waves his stick around. “Normally I can orientate myself pretty easily in new environments, but they keep moving all of the furniture around.” 

“That sucks.” 

“Stiles, I hope you don't mind if I state the obvious. You haven't picked me for one of the dates this week.”

“No, I haven't.” 

“May I ask why?” 

Stiles squirms. “I... I feel like I have a pretty good understanding of you just from our first meeting. I took the dates as an opportunity to get to know people who I hadn't connected with like you on the first night.” 

“Ah. That's pleasing. And how were your dates with young Laura and Danny?” 

“Good, yeah.” 

“Danny says you kissed.” 

“Oh. Um. Ha- did he?” 

“Laura has refused to say, however Peter couldn't wait to tell everyone about the two of yours kiss at the bowling alley.”

“Well... Peter kissed me.” Stiles says because he has nothing else to say. “It wasn't, you know... a date-kiss. It was just for the thing-thingy- calendar, I mean.” Ladies and gentlemen, America's most eloquent Omega. 

“If kissing on dates is a trend, I do hope I receive a date soon even if you do feel like we've already made a connection.”

“Hmm.” Stiles is blushing. “And it's not – it's not a trend. I'm not like that, I'm not someone who kisses everyone I go on a date with.” Except he has been. Laura's the exception to the date-kissing and Stiles was pretty disappointed about it. 

“No, I didn't think you were that sort of boy.” Duke takes his hand. “Nevertheless, I hope our date is or isn't the exception, whatever the case may be.” Duke kisses the back of his hand. 

“Hm. Yes.” Stiles is beet red and thankful for Duke's lack of sight. “I would- I would like that.” 

Duke is running his thumb over Stiles' knuckles and it's making butterflies flutter in his stomach. Duke leans close to murmur, “Don't kiss anyone else until our date, okay? Keep your mouth pure for me.” 

'Pure' is an odd choice of word, but Stiles feels drunk between the pheromones Duke is sending out and the actual alcohol so he can only nod, making a sound of agreement for Duke's benefit. It's probably the accent; Duke could say anything to him and he'd be into it. 

“I kind of wish we were on a date right now,” Stiles murmurs. 

Duke smiles, all teeth. “Let's wait until we are, yes? I have no interest in putting on a show for those who could watch it. Besides, I like an Omega who knows the value of patience and abstinence.” 

Once again, odd word choice. Something about it is ringing an alarm, very faintly in the distance, but Stiles is too caught up in the moment to analyse why exactly it's catching his attention. Stiles can only assume it's because it insinuates the contestants already know about his virginal status.

“Do you know...?” 

“Know what?”

“About... my inexperience.”

“That you're untouched apart from your mouth?” 

“Yeah, that.” 

“No, not until you confirmed it for me just now. I had an idea.”

“How?” Stiles is afraid he's broadcasting 'virgin loser' with his presence. 

Duke sways in close, nose a few inches from Stiles' neck, “I can smell it on you.” 

“Oh. Good, I guess? I was afraid the producers were going around telling everyone.”

“Ah. I won't say anything if you would prefer I not.”

Stiles shakes his head then after a beat adds, “I'd appreciate that.”

“Our little secret,” Duke smiles, kissing the back of Stiles' hand again, this time letting his lips linger. 

Stiles jumps when Peter speaks, having appeared on his other side. 

“What are we up to?” Peter asks. “Here you go,” handing Stiles a drink. Stiles tastes it, and yes, that is alcoholic. 

“Discussing the dates Stiles has been on.” 

“Like the first date with our little kiss?” 

“With our tiny teeny little kiss, because we were at a photoshoot and the photographer asked us to.”

Peter smiles and it makes him look slightly dangerous. “Well. Our one little kiss so far. Where will you be taking me on our solo date together, Stiles?”

Stiles has to laugh at the gall. He stands up. “Excuse me. I think my producer wants to speak with me. Thanks for the drink,” he throws over his shoulder as he walks towards Lydia. 

“What's wrong?” she asks. 

“Nothing, pretend you wanted me to come over here.”

“Okay. Are you having fun? Try to stay away from those cocktails. They are dangerous. Have some water.”

Stiles looks around. The esky with beer has been replenished, there's the server with cocktails and a bartender behind an actual bar on the edge of the patio. “Where's the water? The bar?”

“No, there's bottled water in the fridge inside.” 

“So we gotta go get the water, but the booze will be brought to us?”

“We're just trying to help everyone loosen up and have a good time,” Lydia says. 

“What about food?” 

“We'll bring out finger-food when it's dinner time.” 

“You're just trying to get people sloshed,” Stiles says and it's half an accusation. 

“We are in no way forcing anyone to drink. Duke hasn't had a single drink the entire time he's been in the house. It's totally up to the contestants.”

“Mm-hm.” 

“Come on, who else haven't you spoken to? Erica?” 

Erica is over speaking to Cora. They're both wearing sundresses over bikinis “I'd like to speak to Cora,” Stiles says.

“Sure!” Lydia walks with him over to where Cora is sitting. “Just ask to speak with her. You can always go into the gazebo if you need privacy.” 

Both women look up attentively as Stiles wanders over. 

“You didn't take my advice?” Erica asks with a comical pout. 

“Huh?” 

Erica nods at his swimsuit. 

“Oh! No. Sadly, not today. Umm... I was hoping to speak to Cora.” 

“Of course!” Erica stands up. “You two have fun. I'm going to go jump in the pool.” With that being said she pulled her dress over her head, revealing a string bikini with red sparkly fabric that hugs her curves. She dropped the dress on a nearby chair. “Come join me when you're ready,” she says to Cora before striding off. 

Cora and Stiles look at each other wide-eyed once their eyes are drawn back to each other.

“So, come sit down,” Cora invites, patting the padded cushion. “So you've been on a date with my sister and kissed my uncle. Which is fine, by the way, but it might be awkward if we end up together and have Christmas at my Mum and Dad's house with the whole family there.” 

Stiles laughs, charmed by Cora's frankness. “Sorry about all that.” 

“No, it's fine. Tell me about you. What do you do for work?” 

Stiles takes a large drink of the cocktail Peter handed him. “Um. Not a lot. Got my journalism degree a few years back. Couldn't get a job. Now I work retail.”

Cora mouths an 'oh'. 

“Not even full-time retail. Part-time retail. I'm technically a casual so they don't have to pay sick-leave or holiday pay. And they can rearrange my hours as much as they like.” Stiles is just shovelling fire onto the pit of self-pity. Stiles looks out over the crowd and makes eye contact with Isacc, looking away so quickly that Isaac will probably take it personally. 

“I'm sorry.” 

“Not your fault. What about you?” 

“I'm very afraid of the same thing happening. I'm studying accounting as a safety. My Dad's gotten me an admin job at his business for the experience. Once I'm well-seated in my career I'm going to study what I really want to study, but I don't know what that really is yet. But if it's business-related my workplace at the time might even pay for me to study it.” 

“Wow. That sounds like the way to do it.” Stiles feels bitter. Very very bitter. He takes another draw on his cocktail straw. It's giving him a slight brain-freeze. 

“Have you thought about studying something else?” Cora asks. 

“Yeah. Let's talk about something else.” There's a long silence. 

“Oh, I know! If we end up together,” Cora smiles, “how soon would you want to have kids? How many? I grew up in a big family and I want a big family. Ooh- do you even want kids? That could be awkward.” 

“No, I want kids. I don't know if I want a million of the things, but maybe one or two. Or three, I guess, if there's a big enough age gap.” 

“If we had kids you wouldn't have to work, you could stay at home. You wouldn't have to worry about finding a job then.” Cora smiles. She's being sincere, offering it as an alternative to the stress of job-hunting. She's genuinely thinking of Stiles' best interest while posing it as an option. Stiles had even had that thought before. Back in the day Omegas weren't allowed in the workforce. Stiles could go the traditional route and be a stay-at-home-Omega to an Alpha. Be a homekeeper until they had children. It was still perfectly respectable. 

However, Cora was younger than him. Stiles had no problem picturing himself relying on an Alpha older than him being further along on their career trajectory. It would be expected for, say, Chris or Duke or Peter to be earning more money than him. Something about being with Cora would make Stiles feel like a failure; having to rely on someone his junior. Once Cora graduates she's all but guaranteed a job in her field and immediately more on track with her life plan than Stiles who had several years to get his shit together and hasn't. Stiles realises where Laura is attractive for how successful she is, Cora is the opposite; it's alienating for someone younger and more attractive with more status to be so much further ahead. Stiles understands at that moment that he and Cora don't have a future together. Maybe his pride is getting in the way, but Cora brings out every insecurity in him and magnifies it by comparison to her own self. 

Cora has started talking about how she wants to live with her parents on their property but in a separate dwelling, “They have tons of space. We could build one of those tiny houses. So much cheaper than buying land. And until we need a bigger space, so with the first child, they'd be so much help being so close by.” 

Stiles nods and smiles because it's easier than anything else. He feels like an open wound of failure. For some reason his eyes are wet. Stiles stands up. “Excuse me, I'll be right back. I just need to speak to Lydia for a second.” 

Stiles bypasses Lydia entirely, grabbing another blue drink on his way into the house, then hustling upstairs and closing himself in his sitting room. There's no lock on the door, of course, but Stiles pulls the couch away from the wall and sits behind it like a child hiding. He hopes there aren't any cameras in the room to catch him lying on his side and sobbing like a baby. He misses his Dad. His life isn't turning out the way he wanted it to. He's not sober and he's wearing short-shorts and he doesn't have even a two-pack and he's probably being filmed even now. 

Stiles cries until he feels comfortably numb, all the bad feeling washed out. The blue drink helps. 

God, he hasn't even been here a week. Stiles scrubs at his eyes, feeling how swollen they are now. This place is doing a number on him.

Lydia eventually looks for him in the sitting room. “Stiles!? What's wrong? We were so worried, everyone is looking for you! Tell me what's wrong, I can't fix it if you don't tell me. Did something happen? Did someone say something?”

Stiles sighs. “No.”

“Did someone DO something to up-set you?” 

“No.”

“Was it Bobby? Is he on set?” 

“No!” 

“Well then what happened?” 

Stiles sighs. “I feel bad about myself. Because I'm un-employed. In retail. And everyone else isn't. All of you are employed. On this fucking show. I'm surrounded by people with goddamn fucking jobs!” 

Lydia studies Stiles critically. “Seriously? Maybe if we stop drinking we'll feel better...” 

“I won't be any more employed if I'm sober, Lydia!” 

“You are employed, Stiles! You are also employed on this 'goddamn fucking show',” Lydia air-quotes. “And you are not taking it seriously! You have a job, alright? You job is to fall in love with one of the Betas or Alphas out there. Or something similar, like infatuation. And the better a job you do, the more likely you are to get another job in a related industry once this job is over.” 

“My job is to flirt with Alphas,” Stiles says. 

“Yes, you're getting paid to be in a hot tub with attractive single people! Now is not the time for self-loathing. Get back up, go back out there and think to yourself, 'wow I love being gainfully employed on this show. I'm going to make Lydia's life easier in thanks for casting me by not going off and hiding in the middle of a goddamn cocktail party'!”

“You're right. Sorry, Lydia.” Stiles staggers to his feet. “I'm ready to go back out.”

“No, you're not.” Lydia hands Stiles a water. She walkie-talkies some commands. A make-up artist and PA holding a plate of food arrive in short order. The make-up artist gets to work on making Stiles look less blotchy and swollen. Stiles wishes her good luck because she's going to need it. 

The PA stands right next to them, handing Stiles pieces of sushi and miniature sausage rolls and slices of fruit. 

“This'd be easier to do if he wasn't chewing,” the make-up artist says as she tries to very carefully apply moisturising lotion to Stiles' eyelids. 

“Work around it!” Lydia snaps. “We need to soak up that alcohol. How many of those blue drinks did you have?” 

“I dunno. Three. Four, maybe?” 

“No wonder you're a mess. The party's not even two hours old. I told you to stay away from those things.”

Stiles hiccups in answer. 

Lydia ends up delaying the selection ceremony by another hour trying to get Stiles sober enough to stand without wobbling. Stiles gets to change into a suit, just a casual light-weight linen number. He's wearing a tee underneath and it feels good to be clothed again. He's had an intense coffee and as much water as he can comfortably fit inside himself. 

All the Alphas and Betas are still in their swim suits, giving Stiles a little shiver of pleasure. It's a heady feeling to have so many attractive people clothed in so little hanging on your every word. Detracting from that is the fact some of them seem to be having trouble staying upright. 

Stiles opens his mouth to do his little speech and Isaac and calls out, “Wait!”

Stiles is surprised, looking around for Lydia, but sees Jackson off to the side giving Isaac a thumbs up. 

“Can I speak to you for a moment?” Isaac asks and he sounds like a little boy. 

“Sure. Okay.” 

They mosey outside leaving the other contestants to talk amongst themselves. Isaac takes Stiles' hand and drags him into the gazebo. There are even more fake candles now. Stiles is wondering what sort of colossal fire hazard real candles would be with all this loose fabric when Isaac begins talking. 

“Stiles... we haven't been able to speak one-on-one yet and I really wanted to talk to you. I said earlier that I was scared you were going to let me go home and I just wanted to talk to you about... about why I've been so stand-offish.”

Stiles can smell the beer on Isaac. He has a feeling in his stomach like something's about to happen but he doesn't know what. For some reason he feels wary even though it's just him and Isaac talking. “...Okay.”

Isaac closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes tears leak out. “I had an abusive childhood. My Mum died when I was a kid. My older brother died while he was in the Army. He- he left because of our father. After our Mum died he... my Dad started drinking. He'd get violent.” Isaac is shaking. He sniffles and opens his mouth to keep talking. 

“Whoa-hey hey, it's okay. You don't need to be telling me this stuff.” Stiles shoots a look at Jackson who is kneeling in the entrance to the gazebo. 

“It's okay, Isaac. You can be honest with Stiles,” Jackson encourages. 

“Hey! He can be honest but that doesn't mean he HAS to! This is really personal stuff, Isaac, I don't know if – I don't know whether you really want to be sharing this with me.”

“No, no, I have to tell you why I have a hard time forming relationships with people otherwise you'll send me home,” Isaac cries and Stiles can tell he's repeating something he's heard from his producer.

“You dickhead,” Stiles snarls at Jackson. Stiles doesn't miss the way Isaac flinches at the yelling. “You set him up to do this?” 

“I think Isaac has been very brave,” Jackson says softly, “And I think the thing you should do is comfort him.” 

Stiles looks back at Isaac who is staring at him with doe eyes, drunk and sniffly. 

“I'm sorry you had to go through that,” Stiles murmurs. 

“He used to- he'd use a belt on us and he had this chest freezer-”

“Look, hey, no, no, stop.” Stiles reaches out and grabs Isaac's hand. “You don't have to tell me this, okay? You don't have to share this with me. This is very personal. We barely know each other.”

“But I want to get to know you and if I don't tell you we may not get to know each other better. I have to explain!” 

“You don't! You don't have to explain, Isaac, because you don't owe me anything.”

Isaac pulls his hand back from Stiles' grip and stands up. “Whatever. I'm trying to be honest with you!”

“Isaac...” Stiles whispers, “This is too much.” 'You're going to regret this so much,' Stiles wants to say but doesn't because it won't help now. It's already been recorded. There's no going back. 

Isaac storms out of the gazebo, almost kicking Jackson when he's too slow to move out of the way. 

“You could have warned me!” Stiles mutters to Lydia as he walks with her back to the house. 

“I didn't know Jackson had that planned,” she tells him, “otherwise I would have. Was it bad?” 

Stiles wipes at his own cheeks. “It was bad.” 

 

~~~

 

“Hello and welcome to the Selection Ceremony! I have these roses. If I call your name, you get a rose. You want it, come and get it. If I don't call your name, you don't get a rose, you go home. Good? Good.” Stiles picks up the first rose and looks at the crowd of people. 

Erica is right there, front and centre in that bikini. “Erica,” Stiles calls. She accepts it happily with a long torso-pressing hug. 

“Danny. Laura. Scott. Duke,” Stiles calls out in turn. 

“Five left,” a PA announces. 

There's a very long silence while Stiles studies the seven that are left; Chris, Derek, Peter, Cora, Aiden, Ethan and Isaac. 

“Chris,” Stiles eventually calls out. “Peter.” It's getting tricky because Stiles isn't sure of who he's sending home in addition to Aiden. 

“Ethan,” he says. He hasn't spent any time with Ethan yet. It seems unfair to send someone home who he hasn't spent time with yet. “Derek.”

“One left,” is announced. “Stiles, your line is “This is the final rose.” 

“This is the final rose,” Stiles declares. Off to the side Lydia nods at him proudly. Stiles looks at Cora, Isaac and Aiden. 

It's between Cora and Isaac. Cora is sweet. Stiles would be sending her home without going on a date with her, which doesn't seem fair. On the other hand, he would just be delaying the inevitable. Plus he'd be left with four Hales, and Stiles is going to have to start cutting them at some point. Isaac is very attractive but their date and that conversation in the gazebo was a disaster. Yet, he would be devastated if he were sent home now and Stiles doesn't want to crush his self esteem like that. Not when Isaac's emotional delicacy is hitting a little too close to home right now and Isaac has just bared his soul. 

Stiles looks down at the rose and then up again. He opens his mouth... and the episode ends. In the future, Stiles' dad throws a pillow at him. 

“That's not my fault!” Stiles says, laughing. “The editors did that. I have no say in how the episodes play out.” 

“So who did you pick?” John demands. 

“I don't even remember,” Stiles says. “It was ages ago. SO MUCH has happened since then.” 

“God-dammit Stiles!” John growls.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm loving your guys comments! Keep them coming! I've already written most of the next chapter, so the person going home is definitely going home but I love to hear your theories.


	8. Day 7, 8 & 9 - Solo Date, Double Date, Confessionals

Stiles looks up from the rose and opens his mouth. “Cora,” he calls out. 

Isaac looks crestfallen. 

Cora accepts the rose with a hug. “Don't do that to me,” she whispers playfully in his ear. Stiles feels bad that he's given her false hope. 

Isaac and Aiden step forward to speak with Stiles, as per the producers' orders. 

“I'm sorry, there was just no connection on the group date,” Stiles says to Aiden. 

“I understand, no hard feelings,” Aiden says with a shrug. He hugs Stiles bro-style. “Look after my brother, you hear?” 

“Yeah, I will.” Stiles turns to Isaac. 

“Don't even say it. I know. I fucked it all up, didn't I?” 

“It's not your fault. I just don't think the tv show is good for you. You don't seem relaxed and happy. I think you'd be happier off the show.” 

“Whatever,” Isaac mutters, blinking back tears. “You're not that much of a catch anyway, Stiles.” 

“Hey! Isaac,” Scott scolds. Next to him Ethan and Aiden are hugging like they're trying to merge into one person. “Don't be like that.” 

“You can't talk Scott. You're standing on that side of the room,” Isaac snaps back. 

“Can I give you a hug?” Stiles asks gently, taking a step forward. 

“No. Save it.” Isaac turns and strides out. 

“I'm sorry,” Stiles calls after him. Isaac lifts up his hand and makes a gesture they have to blur when they air it on tv. 

 

~~~

 

The next day is dedicated to cycling Stiles and the remaining ten contestants through confessionals with Deaton. Stiles gets to go first, and then Jackson and Lydia take Stiles into town in the van. 

Stiles doesn't have any actual plans so he mostly follows those two around as they run errands and purchase supplies. Stiles is encouraged to buy knick-knacks for his granny flat. He's not allowed to buy a book of lined paper and pens to write out his thoughts - “That's what Dr Deaton is for” - but he buys a colouring book and coloured markers with the plan to write over the mostly white pages once they get back to set. 

The three of them eat a late lunch at a cafe. Jackson is insufferable even when off-duty. Lydia seems inured to his caustic personality. 

Stiles has nothing to do in town but doesn't want to leave. He doesn't want to return to the house. He drags his feet and soaks up the sun. It feels like a different sun. This one is warmer and brighter. It's always overcast at the house, it feels like. 

It's raining when they get back to the house, sailing in through the gates. Lydia explains the schedule for the week as she carts them towards Stiles' flat. 

“You have a one-on-one date and a two-on-one date. Then we're having a sports-themed competition for the contestants to spend one-on-one time with you before a cocktail party, then another selection ceremony.” 

“Okay. I remember this from previous seasons.”

“Do you remember that its the contestants who vote for who gets the one-on-one?”

“Yes. I'd love to see that!” The contestants all put a name down and it can't be their own. Contestants without votes get removed from the pool, then votes are recast. The process continues, trimming off contestants with least votes until it's down to a final two and there's arguing and drama and alliances and manipulations and threats and one contestant ends up with one or more votes than the other, thus winning the date. Stiles is disappointed he's going to miss it, and on his own season too. 

“Well you can't. You'll have to wait to watch it with everyone else,” Jackson says. 

“Ugh!” 

“Do you have any ideas for the two-on-one?” Lydia asks. 

Two-on-ones are tricky because Stiles can only keep one of the people he goes on the date with; the other person gets sent home the same day. “I have no idea. I mean, I should include a person I'm going to send home, right?” 

“Right. So here's where you have to be really honest – who are you interested in keeping around and who do you want to cut?” 

Stiles thinks for a while. “Chris and Cora.” 

“Are they people you want to keep or cut?” 

“No, those are the people I want for the date.”

“The oldest and the youngest in the house. I like it. I assume Chris is going home?” 

Stiles smiles to himself. “You can assume whatever you like.”

Jackson snorts. “He's keeping Chris. He couldn't have been more uncomfortable talking to Cora at the pool party yesterday. He looked like he wanted to light himself on fire to get away from her.” 

Lydia looks at Stiles. “Is that true? You're going to cut Cora?” 

Stiles shrugs. “That's what I was thinking.” He looks at Jackson. 

Jackson smirks back. “They don't keep me around because of my winning smile. I'm paid to notice these things.” 

 

~~~

 

Scott wins the one-on-one. They go bungee-jumping. Stiles is having an amazing time with Scott. They're in sync like they've been friends for a decade. Scott is sweet and honest and easy to talk to and quick to laugh. 

If Stiles felt any attraction for Scott at all they could cancel the whole show here and now. Alas, he does not. 

At the end of the date sitting on a picnic blanket Braeden calls out cheekily, “What about a kiss?”

They've been feeding each other chocolate-covered fruits, giggling like children. Scott still has a smudge of chocolate on his upper lip. Stiles is going to shake his head and refuse but Scott is already leaning in. He kisses like he does everything; like a puppy. Stiles can taste the chocolate when he licks his own lips after. Stiles closes his eyes before Scott makes contact when the other man leans in for a second kiss. 

Afterwards Scott smiles, blushing a deep crimson. 

Stiles forces himself to smile back. He's thankful when he gets directed to the van shortly after. 

“You really like Scott, huh?” Lydia asks. 

“I do really like Scott,” Stiles says. But not like that. Not enough. His heart hurts a little bit with it, with how hopeful Scott had looked afterwards. It feels like he's just been broken up with, but in reverse somehow. 

“We're keeping Scott another week, I assume?” 

Stiles aches at how selfish he is when he says, “Yes. Definitely.” 

 

~~~

 

The two-on-one is with Chris and Cora. Stiles gets to stride into the house, or 'manor' as production insists it be called, to announce who is coming with him. 

Supposedly Stiles has caught everyone first thing in the morning, still having breakfast. It'll be part of the 'drama' to have the chosen two rush to get ready in a short amount of time. When Stiles wanders in all the women are clearly wearing make-up and everyone's hair is brushed. They're dressed casually, but deliberately so. The only people wearing pyjamas are wearing are super cute matching ones. Stiles mentally compares it to Erica in her bun and sweatpants last week. 

Because Stiles is only choosing one person to continue reality-dating, the other person needs to have their luggage ready to go. The person not chosen won't even get to come back to the house to say goodbye, someone will come and collect their luggage. Because the contestants don't know who is being chosen, they've all been instructed to pack. It'll make it into the episode who decides to pack and how thoroughly they do so; Erica, Peter and Danny don't bother packing at all. Scott doesn't need to bother as he's already had a date that week. Duke and Laura use it as an excuse to organise their belongings, packing most of them. Cora and Ethan have haphazardly thrown most of their stuff into a suitcase. Derek and Chris are fully packed and ready to go. It's ultimately a personality test showing how confident they are that they're staying, between their relationship with Stiles and only a 1/10 chance of it happening. 

“Two of you are coming with me on this date I have planned,” Stiles announces. “Only one will return.” Stiles pauses from where he's reading cue cards to look over at the producers. “That sounds vaguely threatening.” 

“Keep going,” Lydia orders. 

Stiles looks over the lounge where everyone is sitting, waiting, bored. They've already been told all of this when being told why they need to pack. 

“Only one will return,” Stiles reads. “I have only one rose. It will be given to only one of you. If you do not receive the rose, your things will be collected and delivered to you as you are driven to the airport. You will not get to come back to say goodbye. If your name is called, it's best to say and do anything you need to as this may be your last chance.” 

“Do it again,” Jackson orders, “It's too obvious you're reading off something. Make it sound more natural.” 

Stiles looks to Lydia for back-up but she nods. “More natural,” she says. 

“Can I go to the bathroom while we do this?” Erica asks. 

“No,” the nameless producer says. 

“But I don't have to be here for this!” 

“Let her go to the bathroom,” Cora agrees. She looks to Stiles as if he has any power in this situation. 

“It doesn't matter if she's here or not, right?” Stiles says. 

The producer groans. “Fine! Come straight back.”

Erica mutters something which sounds like, “Fuck you Greenberg,” but it could have been anything. 

Stiles does the whole speech again, and then a third time to a chorus of groans from the audience. 

“The two people coming on the two-on-one date are...” Stiles looks around the room. “Chris and Cora.” 

Chris and Cora look at each other. They both come to the same conclusion, although it's the wrong one. 

Cora stands up and hugs her family members. 

“I'll see you soon,” Laura says. 

“You'll be fine,” Derek mutters. 

“Have a good time, kitten,” Peter says, giving her a kiss on the forehead. 

Then Cora and Erica have a big hug. “Just in case,” Erica says, not bothering to lower her voice. 

Chris comes to stand up beside Stiles. “I just want to say something, since this'll probably be my last opportunity.” He points at Peter. “You can eat my dick.” 

Peter spreads his arms across the back of the sofa he's sitting on. “If you were sticking around any longer, maybe we could look into that.” 

Chris and Cora are sent upstairs to change. Chris comes back down wearing exactly the same thing, as far as Stiles can tell; dark jeans and a pastel blue shirt. Cora has changed from pjs into a form-fitting purple/black dress with black patterned tights and ankle boots. 

“Good luck,” Derek says to Chris with a nod. There's a chorus of good-lucks and good-byes and we'll-miss-yous as the three head out into the courtyard to the waiting limo. 

Once again, Boyd and the sound person are squashed into a corner with Stiles, Cora and Chris sitting up the back. 

“Where are we going?” Cora asks. “They wouldn't say when I was getting dressed. I hope I'm not dressed super weirdly for the date.”

“I can't tell you. It's a surprise.”

Chris refuses to talk during the limo ride. 

“How's Allison?” Stiles asks at one point, trying to get him to engage. 

“Did you know Cora, being younger than you, is younger than Alison?” Chris says in reply. “I'm on a double date with someone younger than my own kid.” He shakes his head and looks back out the window. 

Thankfully it's easy to talk to Cora now that they're not discussing work and life plans. Not Scott or Laura levels easy to talk to, but pretty easy all things considered. 

They pull up in front of a building. The sign out front decrees it as a petting zoo. 

“A petting zoo!?” Cora squeals. “Ahhh!”

“You're not dressed great for rolling around with animals,” Stiles says. 

“I don't even care!” Cora half-yells. Stiles laughs, starting to double-guess himself as Chris gets out of the limo, still not talking to anyone. 

Lydia pulls Stiles aside. “If you're still planning on choosing Chris you've got to make something drastic happen. People will think he's kidnapped your family and is blackmailing you if you choose him at this point.” 

“Well, like what?” Stiles asks. 

“I don't know. I'll try to distract Cora. You try and get him to smile, at least.” 

The three of them get given little paper bags with animal feed in them. Out the back of the building there is pen after pen with pigs, alpacas, goats, sheep, horses and more. 

Stiles is too distracted to pay attention to either of his dates. There's fields you can enter where you can interact with the small, friendlier animals. Pretty soon Stiles has muddy footprints all over his thighs and butt from the small goats. There are kangaroos who are happy to have their fur stroked while they lay in the sun. The larger goats, horse-sized, follow Stiles from one side of their enclosure to the other everytime he walks by because they know he has food. 

Cora is happy to walk in-step with Stiles, following his lead when he moves on to the next animal. 

Lydia manages to pull Cora away by saying she needs to have her mic adjusted, then gesturing at the shed to Stiles behind Cora's back as she leads her away. 

Inside the shed made half of metal sheeting and half of mesh wire there are a million and one bunny rabbits. Chris is sat in the centre, petting a bunny sitting calmly in his lap. Stiles lets himself into the area, shutting the door carefully behind himself.

As Stiles sits down the rabbit in Chris' lap bounces away. 

“I think I frightened it.” There's silence so Stiles continues, “You seem really good with the animals.” He does, Stiles has been watching him as Chris approaches the animals and pets or feeds them, speaking soothingly to them. 

Chris says nothing. 

“You're not even going to talk to me?” Stiles can hear the hurt he feels leaking into his voice. 

“Why don't you just send me home now?” Chris asks in reply. 

“Well I can,” Stiles says. “Do you not want to be here? You can go home at any time, Chris, you don't have to wait for me to give you permission.” 

Chris frowns. “It's not that I don't want to be here-”

“Well that's what you're acting like!” 

“Do YOU want me to be here?” Chris asks. “Honestly?” 

“Yes!” Stiles says. “Of course, I like you. I know I barely know you, but you're hot. You're very, very hot. And you seem well-balanced and you have an affinity for bunny rabbits! Sue me! I like you! I want you to be here. I want you to want to be here.” 

“Well it's kind of a moot point, now, isn't it?” Chris asks, looking through the wire wall for Cora. 

“No, it's not.” Stiles says. “Not at all.” This is a bizarre oddly-aggressive conversation to be having while rabbits are hopping over Stiles' legs but he continues, “I don't want you to be here if you don't want to be. If you don't want me. But if you want me...”

Chris and Stiles look at each other for a long moment. 

Stiles stands up, carefully. “You decide for yourself if you want to be here. It's entirely up to you right now. You want to stay, let me know and you'll stay. You don't then just... keep doing what you're doing. Decide for yourself and let me know.” He walks out slowly, making sure no bunnies follow him out. 

Stiles makes his way back to the alpacas wishing he had his mobile so he could take a selfie with one. Cora finds him there, joining him. 

Chris joins them shortly after. Cora looks at the older man, surprised, but doesn't say anything. 

Cora leaves the enclosure, heading back to the area with the sheep and lambs that are still too young to be fed and petted. Stiles goes to follow her but Chris catches Stiles' hand, pulling him back. 

“Have you seen the ducks?” Chris asks. 

“No.”

“Do you want to see the ducks, with me?”

“Yeah.” 

They walk over to the bird section, neither one willing to be the first one to let go of the others' hand. There are peacocks and colourful parrots and swans. There's a huge lake that's been gated off very high so people can't climb over it. 

“The peacocks are so beautiful,” Stiles whispers. “They're even more beautiful than on tv. No wonder people are always talking about them when talking about beautiful things.” 

“...Yeah,” Chris says. Stiles looks up at him because it sounds like Chris wants to say more. 

“What is it?” 

“...You said, if I wanted to stay... if I wanted you... to let you know.” 

“Yeah.” 

Chris squeezes Stiles' hand where they're still connected, starting to get very sweaty. “I think you've got mud on your butt.” 

“Um, yes, that's the goats' fault.”

Chris finally lets go of Stiles' hands in order to swipe at the dried mud on Stiles' jeans in a half-petting half-spanking motion. “Lucky goats,” Chris mutters. 

Stiles feels his eyes widen and then he barks out a laugh. 

“I don't have Daddy issues, but I might be into spanking, anyway,” Stiles jokes once Chris has stopped trying to get the mud off. Stiles is leaking pheromones all over the place, he can just tell. 

He's unprepared for the hard smack he gets on the butt. He lets out an embarrassing throaty sound in shock and Chris laughs. 

Stiles is too flustered to say anything, blushing so hard he can feel his blood in his cheeks. Absurdly, he wants to start teasing Chris by calling him 'Daddy' and seeing for himself whether Chris might be into it. Thankfully Chris takes his hand again and leads him back up the small hill to the other enclosures. They ignore Boyd standing at the top with his camera aimed at them. 

Cora watches them from where she's hanging out with the crew by the front gate, frowning. Stiles gives a small tug to let go of Chris' hand out of self consciousness but Chris' grip tightens in response. Stiles is into that, apparently.

Lydia gestures Stiles over. It's time for the mini selection ceremony. 

 

~~~

 

There's a small garden off to the side of the building where people can have a cup of tea or snack from the small petting zoo cafe. The tables and chairs have been stacked against the wall and a sofa sat down in the middle of the grass. Flowers and bushes encircle the area, with high leafy trees for shade. It looks and feels like somewhere pixies might gather. 

Chris is taken to the opposite end of the building while Cora and Stiles are filmed on the sofa. A table with food and wineglasses set on top is perched in front of them. Beside Stiles's side of the couch there is a smaller table with a rose sitting by itself on a long, thin tray. 

“Cora,” Stiles says. He doesn't know what else to say. 

Cora reaches out her hands, taking Stiles' in her own. 

“Cora,” Stiles tries again but only a long silence follows. 

“You know, I thought I had this in the bag. Then... I saw you and Chris holding hands and I realised I didn't. Stiles, I really like you. Say whatever it is you need to say.”

This is so much worse than a regular selection ceremony. He has to break up with this woman face-to-face when she's done nothing to deserve it. Watching the episode back they'd made Cora seem pushy, as if she kept interrupting Stiles, taking his hands, cutting him off. As if she brought it on herself. 

“Cora, you're so smart. You're so funny. You're so beautiful.”

Cora smiles and there's a sadness in her eyes that says she knows what's coming. 

“Someone, somewhere will be so lucky to have you,” Stiles says. “But it's not me. I'm so sorry.” 

Cora nods. Her eyes look very wet. 

“Please don't cry. I'm so sorry. It's just-” Stiles sighs. “I don't think we've clicked. Not really.”

Cora nods. “I know what you mean. I just thought... I just thought you were definitely going to pick me. I knew I wasn't going to make it to the final two but... I didn't know I'd be going home today.” She laugh-sobs and swipes at tears with the side of her hand. “I didn't even pack my hair-dryer. Fuck.” 

“I'm sure Laura can bring it home for you,” Stiles offers uselessly. 

Cora does a half eye roll. “Yeah.” 

“I'm sorry,” Stiles says again as if he can make her stop crying just by willing it hard enough. It isn't working. 

“It's okay,” Cora says. “I understand. I wish you and Chris all the – or you and Laura. Or you and Scott. Or Danny. Or Duke or Peter, whoever, I wish you both all the luck.” She stands up and walks down the path that curves around the house back towards the parking area where a limo is waiting to drive her off to a hotel. “Be good to my girl, Erica, okay?” 

“I will be,” Stiles calls back. 

“No double dates like this for her,” Cora calls, looking back. 

“I won't,” Stiles half-yells after her. 

Cora nods and turns, walking away again. Stiles can clearly see the light brown mud on the back of her dark dress. In the distance he can hear animal's bleating and snorting. Just an hour ago they'd been enjoying the animals together. Now Stiles is never going to see her again. Unless he Mated Laura, Peter or Derek... In which case he'd see her all the time. It makes him want to not choose any of the Hales. Every Christmas he'd visit with three people he'd rejected romantically. 

At least Cora and he hadn't kissed. 

Stiles gets to go inside for a drink of water and to use the bathroom. Then he comes back and sits down and Chris is sent to come sit with him. 

The rose is still sitting next to Stiles. 

“Have you spoken to Cora already?” Chris asks. 

“Is this yours, do you mean?” Stiles asked, picking the rose up. 

“Yeah, that's what I mean.”

Stiles holds it out to Chris then yanks it back when Chris reaches for it. “Do you want it?” 

Chris looks at Stiles with a small smile. “Do you want me to beg?”

Stiles squirms a little at that. “I wouldn't mind.” 

Chris leans in close. “Please, may I have your rose, Stiles?” 

Stiles twists it in his hands. “Chris, I'm giving you this rose because I want to get to know you better.” 

He holds it out and Chris grabs at Stiles' wrist to keep his hand still, plucking the rose from Stiles' grip with his other hand. “Thank you.” Chris presses it to his own lips, inhaling slightly. Then he moves it forward, brushing it across Stiles mouth. Chris' other hand is still holding Stiles wrist. “I would like to get to know you better as well.” 

“Wow, it's warm in here,” Stiles says a little too loud. He laughs nervously, free hand pulling the neck of his shirt away to let in some air. 

Chris shifts his grip so now they're holding hands. “May I scent you?” he asks. 

Stiles nods. It's something most people do without even noticing, or as a side effect of standing close to your friends or family. It's an old-fashioned thing that used to be used in formal courting but is much more relaxed now. Even Chris, dinosaur that he is, wouldn't have been raised in the era of such formal courting rules. It's simply a romantic gesture. 

Chris leans in close, mouth open, and huffs at Stiles' neck. Stiles turns his head, giving Chris more access. Chris' free hand, holding the rose, pulls Stiles shirt away from his neck the same way Stiles just did. Stiles can feel the rose sliding across his neck, making him shiver. Chris finally sits back, looking slightly drunk. 

“You smell good,” Chris says and his voice sounds thick. 

“Thank you.” 

“Very good.” Chris teases the rose down the line of Stiles' neck, on purpose this time. 

“Are you okay? You seem out of it,” Stiles points out. 

“I think I'm just due for my Rut,” Chris murmurs. “I think you're triggering it.” 

“Oh, wow.” Ruts are the Alpha version of Heats, except they only come once a year unlike Omega's monthly heats. And there is no injection to prevent them like a Heat suppressant. Once Mated, Ruts and Heats sync for a pair. In public with unMated individuals an Omega Heat might trigger a Rut or vice versa. “But,” Stiles says, “I'm on suppressants.” 

“You smell really, really good though,” Chris says. “And having all of those other Alphas around...” Betas don't have anything at all like a Heat or a Rut. Books have been written about the tragedy or freedom of it. 

Chris lets go of Stiles' hand in order to grip the back of his neck, dragging him in closer. His mouth is open, panting against the side of Stiles' neck, teeth just scraping. 

The crew is already in motion. This is guaranteed to happen at least once a season. Some people (perverts) tune in just for the Alpha-Rut episodes to see how badly an Omega might get mauled. The crew are spraying Chris with water bottles, a lot hitting Stiles as well. 

Hands are encouraging Chris to let go of Stiles, one of his hands around Stiles' neck, the other in his shirt, trying to pry them off. 

There's strong perfume being sprayed now and Stiles coughs, senses clouded. It seems to work some on Chris who leans back a little, mouth no longer touching Stiles. 

The crew is trying to physically tug the two of them apart, almost all of them throwing out directions, a lot of them contradictory. Chris doesn't let go of Stiles' shirt and it tears, baring his chest. They include that in the episode and a several second clip of it ends up on the internet where it gains quite a few more million views than Stiles would have expected.

Stiles is eventually bundled back into the van and they head off towards the house. Chris is in the original limo, heading back to the house as well where there's a special Heat/Rut room for such occasions. 

“Did I trigger Chris' Rut?” Stiles asks Lydia. 

“No,” Lydia says with a hair flick, “He was probably just due. Don't worry, we'll edit it that way. Once you get out you'll have Alphas throwing themselves at you.”

“I don't know how I feel about that,” he answers honestly. 

Lydia tells him Deaton is explaining to the others about Chris and they'll have seen Cora's luggage taken away. Stiles get to go back to his flat and hang out for an hour until he's being carted to the house to do confessionals with Deaton. The producers make sure none of the contestants know he's there so they can't confront him about his elimination choice. 

Stiles talks about Cora and Chris and the date, he gets asked a few comparison questions about his date with Scott, who he's already filmed a confessional for. 

“How are you feeling, Stiles?” Deaton asks. 

“I'm so tired, I don't know why.” 

“It's because the brain uses energy. You've got some quite difficult choices to make. You're thinking, and more importantly, you're feeling a lot. That takes quite a bit of energy to process.”

“Okay.” 

“We still have the cocktail party and elimination ceremony after the group date, a few days away.”

“The group date's with everyone, right?” Stiles asks. 

“That's right,” Deaton says smoothly. “The final nine contestants will all be competing for your attention. You'll be letting one go, except Chris of course since he's already been chosen. Does Scott have a free pass after your date with him?” 

“Definitely.”

“Tell me, ignoring the cameras, how you're feeling about everyone.” 

“Well, I like Scott. I like Danny and Laura. I like Chris. Who does that leave?” Stiles thinks out loud. 

“You have Derek and Peter, the other Hales, Ethan, one of the twins. Erica and of course, Duke. Is there any particular reason you haven't gone on any dates with some of those people yet?” 

“No, not really. There's only so many people I can take on dates, that's all.”

“Ah, but you had the group date with Scott. It caused quite a stir in the house when you chose him again for a solo date. Some contestants were very jealous.”

“They were? Like who?” Stiles asks. 

“I can't say,” Deaton smiles. 

“Of nine contestants, you haven't been on any sort of date with Derek, Ethan and Duke. How are you feeling about those three?” 

“Well... I don't think I've connected with Derek or Ethan yet.” 'And I probably won't,' he thinks to himself. “I've been having a really good connection with Duke at the cocktail parties, I definitely want to go on a date with him next week.” 

“You have a solo date and another two-on-one next week. Will Duke be chosen for the solo or the double date, do you think?” 

Stiles thinks to himself. Now that Deaton has laid it all out like that it's obvious who the next two to go are: Ethan and Derek. Peter, eventually, after that. Maybe Stiles will get rid of Ethan this week at the cocktail party; with Cora gone, there's one spot left. Then he can choose Derek and someone for the two-on-one next week and get rid of Derek, an easy choice. 

“Maybe the two-on-one,” Stiles says. “I can take Derek and Duke, and I've never been on a date with either of them before. That seems fair.” 

“And for the solo date?” 

Stiles chews on his lip. “Erica, I think,” he says. “I want to start dating properly the people who were on the first group date.” 

“That leaves out Ethan,” Deaton points out. 

Stiles shrugs. “We really haven't connected. When they arrived the twins were really... reliant on each other and spent a lot of time together, and I feel like that meant I couldn't really get to know them.”

“Even after spending time with them in the hot tub?” Deaton asks. 

Stiles laughs in his throat. “Even after that.” 

“So what you're saying...” Deaton says, “is that you haven't been able to get to know Ethan properly because of his preoccupation with someone else?” 

Stiles frowns. “That's a weird way to phrase it, but okay.”

“Well Aiden went home last week. You still haven't been able to connect with Ethan one-on-one?”

Stiles' frown deepens. “I haven't been able to spend any time with him.”

“You're choosing not to,” Deaton returns. “Do you think perhaps Ethan isn't truly into you, that he's not committed to your relationship?”

“I guess,” Stiles says, grabbing onto the lifeline Deaton is steering the conversation towards. “Yeah, I'd say Ethan and I haven't connected because he doesn't seem interested.”

“Do you think Ethan might be interested in somebody else?” 

“Like his brother?”

“No, no, no, like one of the other contestants.”

“Umm... I wouldn't think so, but I mean, I'm not there, I don't know what's happening. Why? Is he- Is he interested in one of the other contestants?” 

Deaton smiles, lips pressed firmly together. “I'm not saying that Stiles, I'm asking if you've been having a feeling like that. You're the one who says Ethan seems preoccupied with another relationship even after his brother went home.”

“Did I say that though?” Stiles looks at Boyd behind the camera. 

“I'm sure it's nothing,” Deaton smiles. “We're all done. Thank you for your time, Stiles. It's been a pleasure as always.”

Stiles hoists himself out of the director's chair he's been sitting in. “Sure. You too.” He feels wrong-footed all over again. 

The crew begin to shut down the equipment. 

“Is Ethan in a relationship with another contestant?” Stiles asks firmly, point blank. He turns from Deaton's placid smile to the other crew. They all look back stone-faced. “I'm going to figure this out at the cocktail party!” Stile says and storms off to the Crafts table. 

After he's gone Deaton smiles at the gathered crew. “Well that went well,” he says in his soft voice.


	9. Day & Night 10 - Reality Check

There's an off-day in between the two-on-one date and the day of the group date. Lydia picks him up to take him on some errands back in LA, Stiles following her around as Lydia meets with people. The people they meet with seem to know of Stiles, which is odd. Stiles doesn't know anything about the meetings, just sits there and looks pretty like he's been ordered to. They pick up new outfits for Stiles for the dates, some new DVDs for Stiles' flat and Lydia drops off some letters and packages at the post office. 

Someone at the post office actually recognises Stiles. Lydia insists that Stiles isn't Stiles, acting like a bodyguard as she shoves Stiles out of the building and towards the waiting limo. 

“He's in a limo,” one of the middle-aged women shrieks to her friend who's a step behind, “It must be him! Stiles, we love you!” 

Lydia smiles at Stiles as they take off rapidly. “At least we know people are paying attention to the promos.”

“Can I see a promo?” Stiles asks, still shaky from being accosted. That woman had been so loud and yet to close to him as she'd screamed his name, causing him to jump a foot in the air. He'd dropped the magazine he was looking at. He hadn't picked it up, it was probably still on the floor of the post office which Stiles felt a little guilty about. 

“When we get back, I suppose I can show some to you. We'll have you doing interviews on your non-filming days soon,” Lydia tells him. He'd been told about the interviews – magazines and tv – when he'd been offered the role of Omega of the season. He'd agreed without thinking and he hadn't thought about it since filming began. Stage fright started to creep up his nerves. 

“What sort of interviews?”

“Women's interest magazines and morning/breakfast tv chat shows, you know the type of thing. You'll love it. First one'll be an adjustment, then you'll ease right into it. You'll be used to the cameras on set, at least.” 

The limo driver knocks on the partition, sitting open. “We're arriving,” the man calls out. 

Stiles look around, confused. They're in the middle of a busy street. They aren't anywhere. 

Lydia tugs him over to sit next to her, pointing out the long strip of her window. “Look, there! Maybe that's where those women recognised you from.” 

It takes Stiles a half-minute to figure out what Lydia is pointing at. He doesn't recognise his face immediately but... that's him. That's him up on a billboard attached to a high-rise office-block, holding a rose and looking down at traffic. “America's Omega next-door is looking for love” in flowery script is next to him. Stiles remembers the shirt from the photo-shoot with Jackson in the rented apartment except.. he could have sworn he'd been wearing a pastel blue shirt. Stiles on the billboard is wearing a pastel pink one... they've photo-shopped the colour of the shirt. Stiles squints, trying to count his freckles. There's definitely less of them. Stiles' eyes have never been that shade of honey-brown, his are darker like caramel. 

Stiles face is sitting high on a building photo-shopped and slightly... whimsical? Forlorn? where a gajillion people will see it each day. 'Coming in the new year' is printed on the bottom of the poster in letters that are probably over a foot high. 

“Jesus,” Stiles sighs, “That's my face.” 

“Yes it is.” 

Stiles sits back in his own seat, feeling nauseous. Other people have their faces on billboards, not him. All this time without realising there's been 'them' and 'him'. It feels wrong, like he's in the Twilight Zone. Famous people, actors and musicians, have their names and faces spread around like that, not Stiles, a university graduate who works retail in a small town. Now people know who he is, they care about who he is like those loud women back there. No-one except his mum and dad have cared about him like that before. No employer has paid as much attention to him as random commuters and pedestrians are going to. Stiles has been under the impression this season won't be a big deal. He's been thinking it won't be watched by a lot of people. That, what, the network might even decide not to show it? He's probably going to be recognised for the rest of his life. 

“Are you okay? You look a little pale.” Lydia is leaning across with a hand on his knee. Normally Stiles would be flattered but he can't even register it right now. 

“I just need a minute,” Stiles says, voice tight. Lydia is talking about breakfast tv shows? How many people watch those? Millions, right? Stiles leans forward, head between his knees, gasping. 

“Are you okay? Talk to me, Stiles,” Lydia orders. 

“Panic. Attack,” Stiles says. 

Lydia is sitting next to him now, rubbing circles between his shoulder blades. “You're okay,” she's murmuring. “You're alright, Stiles. Do you want us to pull over?” 

Stiles is gasping for breath. He feels like he's underwater and it doesn’t matter how much he breaths in there isn't any oxygen. This isn't his first rodeo and Stiles waits it out, wondering if he's going to pass out. Beside him Lydia is starting to freak out, aggressively ordering him to breath and calm down, still rubbing his back. Stiles can barely feel it. 

He hits a crest and starts to sink back down on the other side. His breaths become longer and deeper, still feeling light-headed. 

“We're going to get you to Dr Deaton when we get back. He can write you a prescription for something,” Lydia says and she sounds as rattled as Stiles felt after meeting those shrieking fans. “Something to help with the anxiety.” 

 

~~~ 

 

Back at the house Dr Deaton prescribes Stiles clonazepam, telling him they'll give him two doses a day, one in the morning with breakfast and one at midday with lunch, and Deaton will oversee the correct dosage is given. He tells Stiles they'll wean him off it once filming ends. 

Stiles has been going to the GP for his anxiety since his mum died and the doctor just kept telling him to try to sleep better and eventually recommended a counsellor who fell asleep during their sessions. He has one panic attack and because his face is on a billboard he could probably get Deaton to prescribe him morphine if it meant shooting went ahead. 

Stiles has very conflicted feelings about the drugs. 

“If it doesn't work for you or the side effects get too much, we'll stop and switch to something else,” Deaton had offered in reassurance. 

Stiles is willing to give them a go. 

He goes back to his flat, watches his new Addams family DVD and falls asleep before the credits roll. Anxiety attacks always exhaust him. He must have fallen asleep early, before sundown. 

He wakes up fully refreshed at 3 in the morning and can't get back to sleep. He's hungry and there's nothing in the fridge. The house is less than a ten minute walk away at a casual stroll. It was nice walking in the still night, moon shining brightly, lawn crisp and sweet-smelling under his feet. He can smell the night chill, shivering in the thickest jumper he'd packed. It's not too bad, Stiles had thought the house would be further. He pokes around Crafts but of course the table's empty. 

Whereas the lawn had been peaceful the courtyard was spooky. Stiles had never seen it quiet. All around there are signs of where people have been, like a ghost town, the moon hitting the trailers at odd angles. 

'The house fridge would have food,' Stiles thinks to himself. But in surveying the courtyard Stiles sees something... there's a portable building with a sign on the door, “Authorised Personnel Only. No Entry.”

Well, now Stiles wants to go in there. 

The door is locked, Stiles looking around to see if anyone will notice him trying to break in. The window isn't locked. Stiles looks up and makes eye contact with the security camera pointed straight at him. 

What are they going to do, fire him? 

Stiles hoists himself up and in through the window. 

Inside there are several desks and a row of tv screens on the wall to his right. On the left are whiteboards pushed up against the wall. 

Stiles wanders over to the whiteboards. There are photos of all the contestants, the remaining ones at least. There's Isaac and Core but with X's through their photos. Underneath each contestant there are dot-points. 

Laura Hale, 30, Alpha  
Final 2? Final 4  
Workaholic  
Commitment issues  
Interested?  
Bikini shot?  
Clean freak  
Perfectionist  
Erica – enemies?  
Friends - ?Derek

The next one has Peter's photo. 

Peter Hale, 37, Alpha  
Playboy  
Flirt  
Kissed Stiles  
More kissing?? (Hot tub)  
Cooperative  
TRUTH-TELLER  
Arrogant  
X soon – try to get S to keep  
Enemies – Chris, Scott, Laura, Derek?  
Friends – Duke

Stiles looks over the row of photos, searching for Ethan's photo there it is. There's a list of points, including an 'X soon'. Under 'Enemies' it has Isaac, Derek and Peter. Jeez. It makes Stiles double guess Duke since apparently he's the only one who gets along with Peter. Under 'Friends' it has Aiden, Danny, which Stiles remembers is because they're roommates, Erica, and Scott. So presumably Ethan, if he IS involved with another contestant, is involved with Danny, Erica or Scott. That doesn't narrow it down as much as Stiles would like. 

Stiles' eyes gaze over the photos. He feels like a kid in a candy store. In one way he feels like he's looking at the code for the matrix, but in another this is all fairly obvious stuff. Peter is arrogant, Laura is a workaholic. Stiles likes Laura. No-one likes Peter. It's not the nuclear codes or anything. 

One interesting thing is a list off to the side of the photos. There's a vertical metal strip and the contestants' names have their own magnet like a nameplate. The names are stacked one on top of each other and at the top of the metal strip it says 'winner'. Scott's in first place, then Danny then Laura, Chris, Erica, Peter, Duke, Ethan, Derek. At the bottom near the floor there's a collection where some have fallen off; Cora, Aiden, Isaac, Ennis, etc. How many/what sort of dates Stiles has been on with them and whether they've kissed must influence the order because it's certainly not Stiles' own order of preferences. The names are higgledy-piggledy, some squashed on top of each other, some with big gaps where names must have been. It's clearly a running tally changing day-by-day. 

Stiles turns his attention to the desktop computers on the desks. He moves a mouse and a screensaver wakes up. It requires a password and Stiles can't find one. The other three computers are the same. 

Stiles fidgets with the tv screens and his fingers skirt over an on-switch on one of them, bringing it to life. There's no sounds, just an image of Derek and Duke sleeping in their beds in the same room. Stiles thinks back to when he'd said he's wanted the both of them for a two-on-one date. He had no idea they were room-mates. 

Stiles tries to find the on-switch for the next screen with renewed motivation. Another one turns on. Erica, alseep in bed, her hair tangled thick over the pillow beside her. She must wear a retainer at night, the container open on the bedside table next to her. The bed next to her is empty. Stiles wonders if that was Cora's. 

Stiles turns off the two he'd turned on before turning to the next one. Peter, in bed but not sleeping. His eyes are shut but his hand is working steadily underneath the covers in a familiar gesture. Stiles understands that this is the violation, working quickly to turn it back off. He's running his hands over the rim where he'd found the button before but his eyes are glued to the screen. Peter's topless, the quilt only coming up to his waist. Peter is nicely built, and judging by how long a stroke his hand is doing he's nicely built everywhere. The tv turns off and Stiles breaths a sigh of relief. 

He suddenly spins, looking around the room. They'd have to have security cameras in here, right? Stiles looks at the four top corners of the room but can't see them. They must be better hidden. Stiles should leave, he tells himself. But then again... he's already here. He's already snooped. The damage has been done. He may as well stick around for a little while.

There's a laptop Stiles hasn't noticed earlier sitting at a desk pushed up against the far wall. Stiles pries it open and it glows brightly. 'Password'. Stiles blinks at the code of letters and numbers taped to the upper left frame of the screen. He types them in and is greeted by a homescreen. 

Woah. He's in. It feels all matrix-y again. 

There's nothing of note in any of the folders as Stiles clicks around. Payroll excel sheets. Duplicate forms for sick leave, annual leave, maternity leave. A record of a disagreement over parking spaces. Photos from a team-building exercise for the crew at one of those places that has flying foxes. There's a photo of all of them, 20-30 people. Jackson has his arm wrapped tight around Lydia's shoulders and she's smiling straight at the camera like the sun. Jackson is looking at Lydia. 

Well isn't Stiles learning a lot about everyone on his late-night snoop mission. 

Stiles is about to throw in the towel when he notices the USB plugged in at the side. He gets a battery low signal but manages to find the cord underneath the desk and plug it in, fumbling in the dark. 

He opens up the USB. Inside there are a huge number of folders titled incomprehensibly.

TTK11O W1D1A  
TTK11O W1D1B  
TTK11O W1D1C  
TTK11O W1D1D  
TTK11O W1D2A  
TTK11O W1D2B  
TTK11O W1D2C  
TTK11O W1D2D 

and so on. 

'Tying The Knot Season 11' Stiles guesses. 'Omega'? Stiles clicks open a folder, rummaging through. Under the folders ending in 'D' there is file after file. Under A and B there are much less. Under C there are two extra letters which Stiles realises are initials attached for all of the contestants. There's his own 'SS' as well as four '[Letter]H's for the Hales. 

Stiles clicks on his own name under 'TTK11O W1D2C SS' (TTK11O W1D1C is empty) and sees his own face. These are the confessionals. It's odd to watch himself on a screen the way others might if it makes it to the final cut of the episode. Then there's SS-DD which is the footage from the camera aimed at Deaton during the confessional. Underneath there's a folder and inside there's sub-folders like SS(AS), SS(CA), SS(CH), SS(DH), SS(DM), etc. Inside each it's specific footage of Stiles talking about the contestants. Stiles realises he doesn't know most people's last names. He should get on that, he's not going to consider Mating anyone with a last name that clashes with 'Stiles', not if he's going to change his last name. 

He clicks back out of the folder with his name and clicks on a random file. Chris' face pops up. Stiles very slowly increases the volume. He knows they have security guards in the property and he doesn't need to get caught making such an obvious mistake. He keeps it so low that he has to lean forward until he's almost touching the laptop to hear.

“What do you think about Stiles?” Deaton is asking. 

“Is this a joke? Am I a joke to you people?” Chris is asking. His posture is calm and composed but he sounds angry. “That's an overgrown child out there. Jesus.” 

Stiles clicks out quickly, remembering how Chris had Scented him just two days ago. He bounces out of the folder entirely and heads down. A lot of the folders are empty, they must have created everything they needed ahead of schedule. 

When he randomly clicks on TTK11O W1D7C it's full of videos. This must be from the day after the selection ceremony when everyone had had to do a confessional about the day before.

There's only one 'IL' and the only person with an I name is Isaac. Stiles clicks on it. It's been shot at night, out on the grounds, no Dr Deaton. It's his exit interview, most likely filmed right after he'd been rejected. The lights on the camera are picking up the silver tracks down his cheeks. 

“I just really wanted him to like me.” Isaac sways and sobs. “I really wanted him to like me. I wanted... I wanted someone to pick me.” 

Stiles clicks out of the video quickly feeling incredibly guilty. He hasn't really thought about Isaac since that night. Classic case of out of sight, out of mind. Stiles hopes he's feeling better, wherever he is. 

There's a 'DH' for the elusive Derek Hale. Stiles clicks on that one. Derek is doing his typical expression of casual glaring. 

“How are you feeling about being here?” Deaton asks. 

Derek shrugs. “I'm surprised I'm still here. Especially over Isaac. Talk about kicking someone when they're down.” Derek shakes his head. 

“You don't agree with Omega Stiles' choice to send Isaac home?”

Derek shrugs. 

“Would you have sent yourself home instead?” Deaton asks. 

“Absolutely.” 

'Well call me a genie,' Stiles thinks, 'because wish fucking granted as soon as I can not fling a rose at you.' Stiles is going to choose Duke over Derek so hard Derek's going not going to know what hit him. 

“You're not motivated to form a relationship with Stiles? You have yet to initiate a conversation with him.” 

Derek snorts. “He's kinda cute but he's you know...” Derek makes a face. 

“What does that expression mean, Derek?” 

“Well... you marvel at the fact he can walk in a straight line half the time, you know?” 

Stiles clicks out angrily. Doucheface. 

Stiles wants to watch every single scrap of video on this USB but he's starting to get tired again and his stomach is growling. The folders ending in 'A' have footage of Stiles with the contestants. The 'B' folder has the contestants hanging out together. It's not that interesting. He'd drawn back to the confessionals folders. Stiles tells himself he'll watch one more video and then he'll leave. He shouldn't be here. 

It's too difficult to decide. Stiles clicks at random and Erica's confessional pops up. 

“Are you enjoying yourself at the mansion, Erica?” Deaton asks. 

“I'm having a wonderful time.”

“And what are your thoughts on Omega Stiles?” 

“I could just lay him down on top of some ice cream and eat him up like a banana split. What a cutie.” 

“What do you think of the choices he's making?” 

“You mean in terms of who he's keeping and whatnot? Well. I can't believe all the Hales are still here. I love Cora, but I can't believe Stiles kept Laura of all people around after going on a date with her. I can't believe she got a solo date before me! I can understand keeping Derek, he's got some depth to him, and Peter is D-T-F big time and I think Stiles is into it – he acts all annoyed but he flirts back – but keeping Laura? Ugh.”

“Who do you think your biggest competition is?”

“Danny.” There's a beat. “Oh no wait,” Erica laughs, “Not at all.” Her eyes sparkle. “Duke, maybe. Chris. There's a lot of older guys. I hope Stiles doesn't have Daddy issues because then I don't stand a chance. Chris is acting all 'what am I even doing here' but you know he'd be into spanking.” 

Stiles remembers the date at the zoo and Chris' hand on his ass to help pat off the dried mud. Maybe Erica is secretly a very good judge of character. Or maybe it's not a secret and Stiles had spent less than a day with her all-up.

“Your bikini yesterday was quite something.” 

“It certainly caught Stiles' eye. I was hoping he'd return the favour but he didn't choose the Speedo I suggested for him.”

“You have relied quite heavily on your sexuality to get Stiles' attention. Do you plan to keep doing it?”

“I'll keep doing it as long as it keeps getting me results.” Erica turns to face the camera and winks. 

“Who do you think will be the next Alpha or Beta to go?” 

“Well... Ethan, I think. Maybe Derek. He's such an introvert. I can see the good in him but I don't think Stiles can with the walls Derek puts up.”

“Who do you think, at this stage of the competition, is going to make it to the final three?” 

“Me,” Erica smiles, “Scott. And.... erm. Duke maybe? Or Chris or Peter. One of the old guys.”

“If you could tell Omega Stiles one thing right now, what would it be?”

Erica turns to the camera again and leans forward a little. “Keep me, Stiles, and you won't know what hit you.” She grins wolfishly and looks off to the side like she's sharing a joke with someone. 

With that fourth wall broken Stiles shuts down the laptop, remembering to unplug it. When Stiles wriggles out of the window there is sun starting to turn the sky pink. 

Stiles is busy looking up at the clouds as he rounds the make-shift office. He jumps a foot in the air and swears when a crew member says hello. There's a bunch of them starting to set up. It must be five in the morning. 

“What are you doing here?” Stiles demands, heart racing. 

“We've got an early shoot. The producers are going to get everyone out of bed at the crack of dawn to get some drama out of them. Apparently they all stayed up late last night drinking til the wee hours so they're going to be grumpy.” The man frowns at Stiles. “What are you doing out here?” 

“I'm hungry.” Stiles's stomach chooses that moment to roar in agreement. 

“Craft table's that way,” he points to where it's always set up. 

“Thanks,” Stiles says. “Sorry I snapped. You frightened me.” 

“Figured.” 

Stiles walks over to where someone is pouring cereal into bowls. He thought he'd been caught but it turned out to be nothing. Stiles hopes the crew member doesn't mention it to anyone. If they check the security footage they'll see him breaking into the office and camping out there for a few hours. Time flies when you're having fun. 

Stiles picks up a bowl and holds it out for milk to be poured into it. He sits down and people-watches everyone go about their day as he munches. 

A second bowl of cereal later Jackson is standing right in front of him. “You shouldn't be here. You look like shit.” 

“That second part was unnecessary.” 

“Why are you here?”

“I couldn't sleep. I wandered over because I was hungry. Then I ate some cereal. Now I'm not hungry and I'm ready for sleep.” Rule one of lying: always make sure you tell a version of the truth. Having a Sheriff for a father has come in handy in Stiles life; he can lie and break-in to buildings like nobody's business. 

Jackson scowls at him. “That's why you have a fridge.” 

“That doesn't matter if it's empty.” 

“You have a group date this afternoon! You can't be half-dead.”

“If it isn't until this afternoon why are you getting everyone up now?” 

“The contest is now. Whoever wins gets alone time with you before the group date.”

“I don't have to be there for that, do I? I'll go back and sleep and be all shiny like a penny for this afternoon.” 

Jackson grunts and walks off. 

That's exactly what Stiles does. He doesn't have a minder at that moment so he walks himself back to his flat and climbs into bed. He barely manages to kick his shoes off before he's asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad some of you are enjoying this unbetaed mess. I'm loving your comments. Some people are guessing 100% what my original final pairing was when I started this fic. I keep oscillating between several end choices. We'll have to wait and see. 
> 
> Next chapter: someone gets a blowjob. Can't keep things PG when the title is based on a knotting pun in an ABO!verse.


	10. Day 11 - Group Date, Cocktail Party, Selection Ceremony

Lydia wakes him two hours later with more food which Stiles manages to fit in himself plus his first dose of medicine in a single blister pack. He pops out the pill and chases it with water. 

“I hope this doesn't result in me off my face, stealing a limo, ending up on the evening news,” Stiles says. 

“No,” Lydia says. “Let me know if you feel different or weird or bad or have an allergic reaction so I can tell Alan.”

“Who the fuck is Alan?” Stiles asks as he crawls back into bed. 

“Deaton, your doctor.” 

“Whatever. Thank you for bringing me food,” he says. 

“Whatever,” Lydia says back, sitting down near his bed. 

“You're going to stay?”

“I have to look after you, you might have an adverse reaction. You can go to sleep but I'm staying for the first hour.” 

Stiles doesn't think he'll fall asleep but the gentle tapping of Lydia on her tablet as she composes emails sends him off to sleep. He wakes up to the deja vu of Lydia knocking on his door again with more food and another tablet. She hands him the food and more medicine and more water and a new outfit. Stiles is finding it hard to fully wake up. 

“Derek won the contest this morning,” she tells him, back turned, as Stiles struggles into the skinniest pair of jeans he's ever met. 

“Great,” Stiles grunts. 

Stiles gets chauffeured via golfcart to the house courtyard where the contestants are waiting. Stiles has to do a small speech, “Welcome to our first full group date!” He gets told where they're going, Alpha Manley Stadium, so he can in turn announce it to the people gathered. They keep shooting reaction shots from the Alphas and Betas until they're hyped enough for the sponsor's satisfaction. 

There are two limos to take them to the event as there are eight contestants plus Stiles, plus two members of crew per limo. There will be four contestants in one, and four contestants plus Stiles in the other. Stiles gets to sit in the limo of his choice and then it's a literal footrace to be the first four to the limo door with Stiles in it. He ends up with Danny, Scott, Erica and Peter. Duke loses for obvious reasons, Derek and Laura refuse to run, and Ethan gets shoved aside by Erica.

Laura comes across too dignified to run, holding Duke's elbow to assist him to the vehicle. Derek just straight up walks to the second limo. Dick.

Stiles soon forgets all about Derek with Scott, Danny and Erica making jokes and talking loudly. Peter mostly sits and watches, eyes moving quickly between them. 

The group date is soccer but there's three balls and four goals, one on each side of the square in different colours. The contestants and Stiles get separated to different changing rooms on opposite sides of the stadium and changed into their outfits. Stiles is wearing ¾ length skin tight pants like something a mum would wear to yoga, and a slightly padded sleeveless shirt. He walks out ready to swear up a storm at production but then sees what the contestants are wearing; short shorts and crop-tops, all of them, in some sort of stretchy Lycra or something. Stiles decides his outfit is fine.

Deucalion is the exception, standing off to the side in his regular outfit with his support stick. He looks as calm and composed as a man waiting for a bus. Stiles wonders why he couldn't stay at home if he can't participate.

Stiles walks onto the field where the cameras are pointed and at a producer's signal the contestants start cheering and whistling. Stiles has to read out some ridiculous rules for the game and then they're playing, Stiles standing in the middle with the balls clustered around him. He waits for Lydia to give a signal to show the cameras are all set-up properly and then he turns slightly and kicks a soccer ball towards one of the goals. 

That's the red flag for the contestants to run in from the sides and join in, Danny taking command of one ball and Derek kicking the other far up the field. Stiles looks around, trying to get his bearings in a sudden crows of people and sees Laura off to the side, barely on the field. With one last look around he jogs up to her.

“What's going on?” Stiles asks, panting slightly.

Laura unfolds her arms in order to sweep them down her body meaningfully. She re-crosses them and looks off into the stands, jaw muscles working. 

“You look really good. It doesn't look as bad as it must seem,” Stiles says, which is a straight up lie. It looks like something out of a porno. Stiles looks to the field for comparison and sees Erica shouldering Scott aside in order to get at a ball, completely unselfconscious despite the fact she wasn't warned to bring a sports bra. He realises Erica and Laura are the only female alphas left. Female Alphas are rarer than males. There are some seasons of Tying The Knot where the Alphas and Betas are all male except one token female. There'd also been Cora and Kali, so 4 out of his 20 original contestants had been women, probably because Stiles had specifically mentioned he liked female Alphas to Lydia. The Hales having quite a large number of Alpha children certainly helped. 

“This is humiliating,” Laura said and her voice was thick with emotion. “I run a law firm.”

Stiles frowned. “You don't have to play if you don't want to.”

“No, I want to. But not wearing this.” 

“Go change,” Stiles said simply. 

“I said to them,” she nodded off at the producers who had gathered and were now several feet away, Boyd standing next to them and pointing the camera at their private conversation. “They said if I didn't change there'd be consequences.”

“Like what?”

“Being sent home from the date and no doubt getting the bitch edit.”

Stiles leant forward and took Laura's hand. “Well I say you're staying on the date. You don't have to feel uncomfortable. Go change if you want and come back out.”

Laura squeezed Stiles' hand and a small smile played on her lips. “Thanks Stiles.” She turned and strode off to the changing rooms. 

“Stiles,” Scott called from the middle of the field, “You're not playing?”

Stiles jogged over to meet him, stealing the ball Scott was resting his foot on. “I'm playing,” he said before kicking it forward. 

“Hey!” Scott laughed. 

It was genuinely fun playing, Stiles making sure he stuck close to Scott. Laura came back out and played a little but wasn't as practised athletically like her brother Derek who didn't seem to be aware the picture he was painting getting hot and sweaty in that ridiculous tiny outfit. Danny and Ethan had one ball and were playing their own game against each other. Peter had stolen the second ball and was practising kicking goals on his own. That left Scott, Stiles and Erica to play around, laughing and falling about as they got in each other's way. 

Stiles sort of wished Chris was here rather than locked up back at the house. He'd probably be good at sports. 

The producers took the extra balls away to force them all to play against one another again. They tired out pretty quickly and production calls a halt to things. Stiles gets to award one rose to someone after the group date before the selection ceremony in a few hours, giving that person immunity.

“I wouldn't have had as much fun without you here,” Stiles says with a hug for Scott. Erica looks like someone just kicked her pony. 

The crew relocate themselves and the equipment up to the executive box where a meal is being laid out to accompany the cocktails for the cocktail party. The selection ceremony was going to be held at the stadium that night in order to increase PR for the sponsors. 

Stiles took the opportunity to sit down in the stands as cameras were relocated. He'd be up until sunrise again with the party and ceremony and he was ready for a nap after that bit of exercise in the sun.

Danny came and joined him, Stiles smiling pleasantly. 

“Hey Stiles, I wanted to talk to you.”

“Talk away.” 

“There's just this one thing. There's a lot of nasty rumours going around. People trying to sabotage others. You know what I mean?”

Stiles' eyebrows were about to disappear into his hair. “Sabotage? Like what?” 

“Well, just, rumours. You haven't heard?” Danny blinked earnestly. 

Stiles shook his head. As he finished he remembered – Deaton had been hinting Danny was screwing someone else, another contestant or crew member. Was that what Danny was talking about? Jackson was Danny's producer, would Jackson allow Danny to be made a villain like that with false rumours? Stiles remembered Jackson prodding Isaac into confessing deeply personal things. “I... know not to believe everything I hear.” 

Danny breathed out, long and slow. “Thank god, I just wanted to say- I really like being here with you.”

Stiles smiled back. “I really like you being here.”

Danny took the opportunity and leant forward to kiss Stiles' cheek. “I can't wait to go on more of those kinds of date we had.” 

“Me too.”

“Can I just ask you one tiny favour?” 

“Sure.” 

“It's Ethan.”

“Yeah?”

“I don't know if you've properly given him a chance. I have this really strong feeling you're going to send him home tonight. Please don't. Get to know him better first. You haven't been on a date with him yet, right? Don't let him go until after at least one date. Please.”

Stiles looked over to where Ethan was watching them. “Why do you care?” 

Danny looked around the stadium. “I think he likes you more than he lets on. And I just think he's a good guy and you should give him a chance. I've really gotten to know him and the mansion would be a much worse off place without him. Will you promise me that you won't let him go until after a date with him? Maybe next week, but just not tonight?” 

Stiles inhaled through his nostrils. No way was he keeping Ethan. Danny and Ethan were best friends now, being roommates. Stiles wondered if he could question Ethan about who Danny might be interested in. “I can't tell you who I'm keeping or not keeping,” Stiles said, trying to muddle his way out of the conversation. 

Danny frowned. “Well then don't tell me. You can still promise though.” 

Stiles stood. “I can't promise you anything. I'm sorry.” 

Stiles had thought the conversation was private, they both had, but when the episode aired Stiles found out different. They'd still been wearing mics, the packs weighing down what little fabric of the contestants' short-shorts there were. They were able to feed in the audio onto shots from a camera a fair distance away, Stiles and Danny's entire bodies in frame. 

Before the cocktail party everyone got to change. Stiles got to use the VIP bathroom off the executive box. The contestants get to trudge back to the stadium changing room to change into their formal evening attire. 

There's smudges of dirt on Erica's bare shoulder and Derek had bits of grass and tiny leaves in his hair as they help themselves to cocktails. Derek gets pulled away from the group and meets up with Stiles where he's been quarantined on the balcony. 

“So you won the contest to spend one-on-one time with me,” Stiles says in greeting, “Did you win by accident?” Stiles is holding a champagne flute, having been told it's non-alcoholic as to not clash with his meds. 

“It was a hoop-throwing competition. There was a stick with your face on it and we had to throw the hoops over you to prove we wanted to 'catch' youI have great hand-eye co-ordination,” Derek explains. “I was just trying to win. I didn't even think about...” Derek looks at Stiles and then at the candles and pillows surrounding them, “... the prize.” 

“Nice,” Stiles says, sarcastic. He thinks back to what Erica said in her confessional, that Derek is a good guy who isn't letting his walls down. Stiles twists his mouth, thinking about how he was already planning to send Derek home. Stiles makes the decision to get to know Derek better before he boots him. Derek seems happy to sit in silences so Stiles continues, “Tell me about your family. How do you fit in as the middle child?” 

Derek seems comfortable talking about his family. He doesn't return the question so Stiles offers forward his family history, his mum's dying when he was young, him and his dad becoming super close because they both missed her so much. 

There's more silence and then Stiles asks about what sports Derek plays. It turns out they both played Lacrosse in high school. Once the ball gets rolling they have a surprising amount in common. They both dislike Jackson. They both like frozen yoghurt. They have several favourite tv shows in common. 

“What's the deal with your uncle?” Stiles asks when he looks up and sees Peter standing at the window, watching them. 

“He's a lot of things but he's my uncle, you know?” 

Derek has a huge 'Big Brother' instinct. Derek still misses Isaac, which surprises Stiles and gains his respect. 

“Why'd you send him home?” Derek asks, not looking at Stiles. 

“He was doing really badly in this environment,” Stiles says, voice soft. “He was being manipulated by production, and he was so vulnerable. I didn't have a strong attraction to him, and it wasn't worth the effect on his mental health to keep him around to try and force a relationship.” 

Derek doesn't meet Stiles' eyes but he nods slowly and his frown lessens. 

“Your one-on-one time is up,” Peter declares as he steps onto the balcony. “Off you go, nephew of mine, you can't hog the Omega all night. Stiles,” Peter smiles, “May I have your time?” 

“Uh, I guess,” Stiles says. 

Peter grabs Stiles' hand in his own large, warm one and drags him out of the second door on the balcony into an unlit room. Crew are shouting after them but Peter laughs and speeds up, dragging Stiles out of the room and down a corridor and then into a deserted kitchen. Peter presses his finger to his own lips. Stiles is quiet, listening to the crew trying to find them. 

Peter reaches down to his own lower back to fumble with his mic pack, turning it off. He steps up to Stiles and reaches behind him, shushing Stiles while he turns the other mic pack off. 

“Come with me,” Peter whispers, pulling Stiles deeper into the building. 

“Have you been here before?” Stiles whisper-asks. 

“Yes, I'm a Hale,” Peter says smugly. 

“You've dragged Omegas off like this before?” 

“I sure have,” Peter murmurs back, finally coming to a stop in what looks like a conference room. The stadium is well lit outside, lighting up the room like moonlight. “Catering staff know all the quiet areas, plus you get best pick of the food.” 

“I'll keep that in mind,” Stiles snarks. “Why are we here?”

“I wanted to have a proper conversation with you, privately,” Peter says, “Not camera-behind-the-bushes private. An actual chat.” 

“Oh yeah, what about?” 

“Well...” Peter tilts his head, sidling closer, “I did want to talk about the show. But now it's just the two of us...” He slides his hands up Stiles' arms. “I can see why Chris went into Rut. You smell like a fudge brownie covered in ice cream and it's all just... melting.” 

“I'm on suppressants. My scent is suppressed,” Stiles says. But he doesn't step back. He thinks about what Erica had said in her interview. Peter isn't unattractive. 

“It's not eradicated,” Peter says back. He leans in and scents Stiles. “Maybe I don't just want to chat anymore.” 

“Come on, why are we here? You didn't drag me all the way over here just to get physical.” 

“Or did I? Duke implied you were a virgin,” Peter smiles. “What about blowjobs?” 

“I'm not going to suck your dick,” Stiles frowns, suddenly unsure of being alone with an Alpha. 

“No, not here. But I'm more than willing to treat others the way I would like to be treated,” Peter says, the back of his hand coming forward to graze across Stiles' groin. 

Stiles breaths in, stepping back automatically. 

Peter takes a step back as well. He coughs and says, “No. I wanted to talk to you about who you're sending home this week.”

“Huh?” 

“I had the feeling you were going to send me home and I knew I had to speak with you. I know you're not going to fall in love with me,” Peter says. “I accept that. But I want to propose an idea: I would be a good back-up. Let's say you get to the end of the season and you don't want to Mate any of these Alphas. You have to choose someone. You choose me and we'll do the photo ops, you'll be attached to the Hale name for a while. A year later when people care less, the show's back on, we quietly break it off and you go off and find the Alpha of your dreams.” He shuts up, waiting for Stiles' response. Stiles is reeling and can't come up with anything so Peter continues. “I can't offer you true love or romance. I can offer you honesty and mutually beneficial PR. I'll be straight with you, Stiles, which is something no-one else can, not even your precious Lydia. Keep me around, and if you meet the love of your life, I'll understand. But I can be the ace up your sleeve if nothing else works out.” 

“You sounds pretty sure of that,” Stiles frowns, “There's lots of people I like.” Danny, Erica, Laura. 

Peter smiles. The lights of the stadium lights up only one half of his face. “I've spent more time with them than you have. My advice: keep your options open. Hedge your bets.” 

“Like who? Give me specifics, Peter, or I have no reason to trust you.” 

“I'll let you know, but I need for the time to be right.” 

“Like when? Who – specifically? Danny?” 

Peter half-smiles; only the side of his mouth in the dark quirks up. “When the time is right, dear. Now how about a change of topic? What about that blowjob?” 

“Um...”

“Choose me Stiles, and I wont be your Prince Charming, but I'm. Very. Good in bed.” Peter's very close again. “It's be an enjoyable year before we broke up.” 

“You'd do it here... now?” Stiles is slightly intrigued. He feels the kind of relaxed that comes with being several drinks in but he hasn't had anything to drink because of the new meds. He's felt really relaxed all afternoon. Plus he's been horny since realising there's a camera pointed right at his bed and the only place he can jack off is in the shower... Unbidden Stiles remembers the footage of Peter touching himself. Stiles swallows. 

“You going to keep me another week?” Peter murmurs. 

Stiles wasn't going to send Peter home anyway. Stiles steps closer until there's almost no space between them. “I don't know. There's so many choices.” Stiles lets his hands come up and rest on Peter's chest the way he's been wanting to since the conversation started. “Do you want to help me decide?”

Peter's answer is to drop to his knees. Stiles hadn't really thought... he thought Peter was teasing. Stiles can only stand there, mouth open, as his pants are unbuttoned and unzippered quickly. Peter is moving like he's eager for it. Peter drags his pants and underwear down to his knees then cups the back of Stiles' thighs, squeezing lightly, while putting his mouth on him. 

“Oh you are good at that,” Stiles breaths out shakily. There's absolutely no foreplay. Peter's mouth is a firm wet ring around him, immediately stroking up and down his shaft. Stiles runs his nails thought Peter's hair. “I think this was a bad idea,” Stiles says out loud because the sound of Peter's mouth slicking over him is too much to handle, “You're going to ruin me for all other blowjobs.” 

Stiles has never had a blowjob before. He had to remind himself to breathe and to relax, encouraging himself to move towards orgasm. He doesn't want to blow right away but he doesn't want to last too long. 

Peter's hands move up his thighs to grip his buttocks and squeeze. Okay, Stiles likes that. His first instinct is to hush himself but he forces the moan out of his mouth to encourage Peter. 

Peter pulls off with a pop. “Good?” he asks. 

“Yeah.”

“More?”

“Yeah!” 

Stiles looks down and meets Peter's eyes and is instantly gut-punched several metres closer to the finish line. It totally changes the shape of Peter's face, his mouth full like that. He has cheekbones which Stiles traces with his thumbs. His eyes look more animal, his jaw softer. Peter squeezes Stiles ass again and Stiles moans without having to give himself permission. It looks like Peter smirks which just makes him ten time hotter in that position. 

Peter grips Stiles' cheeks hard, using them to pull Stiles closer, separating them slightly while taking another inch of Stiles' dick. Stiles let out someone sort of ugly grunt and Peter really digs his fingers in, he's going to leave bruises, and Stiles squirms, half-wanting Peter to touch him even more intimately back there. 

Peter pulls off again. “Are you close?”

“I don't know,” Stiles answers honestly. “I've never done this before.” 

Peter takes that answer in stride. He brings one hand around and starts jacking Stiles off. “What do you like? What do you do to yourself when you're alone at night?” 

“I-” Stiles draws a blank. “I just touch myself.”

“What do you fantasise about?”

That's a good question. Stiles thinks over his porn history. He can't find the words to voice his preferences. 

Peter almost growls. “Do you want me to take over and make you come, then?” 

Stiles nods eagerly at that. He cries out as Peter knocks his knees out from under him. He falls forwards, Peter moving aside, on his hands and knees his trousers wrapped around his lower legs. Peter is instantly on all fours above him. 

“Don't fuck me,” Stiles orders. 

“I'll keep my pants on, precious.” Peter's tone is mocking. Stiles can feel Peter's impressive cock against one buttock. Peter uses his own body weight to force Stiles down further, one of Peter's arms snaking around to start jacking Stiles off again. Peter's other arm curls around Stiles' chest. Peter's knees are in between Stiles' and Peter slowly spreads his legs while he jerks on Stiles' cock, widening Stiles' legs further and further, Stiles' pants slipping down to his ankles, until he feels a twinge at his hip. 

“Fuck my hand,” Peter orders and his breath is right in Stiles' ear. Stiles starts to move his hips and the feeling is more electric. Peter's hand is firmer and rougher than his own. Everytime Stiles moves back Peter's erection pushes against his butt. 

“More,” Stiles chokes out. “Make me cum.” 

Peter's hand tightens to the edge of pain and his mouth clamps down on Stiles' neck, teeth digging in. Stiles has the lust-mad thought that he wants Peter to tear his own pants off and fuck him, just fuck him into the carpet until Stiles' knees are destroyed from carpet burn when Stiles comes with a chocked off cry, hips bucking helplessly. 

Panting on the carpet, Stiles doesn't want to have to get up and face Peter. Stiles curls around, tugging his pants back up to his knees and sees Peter palm his own bulge. 

“Do you want me to ...?” Stiles asks, nodding at Peter's erection. 

“Would you want to?” Peter asks sounding completely in control of himself. 

Stiles feels a new wave of warm blood rush through his face. “Yeah.”

Peter tilts his head, considering. “Get up,” Peter orders, “before I ravage you on the floor like that. I'm fine. You can owe me one.”

Stiles pulls his pants up to his hips, doing them up before standing shakily, taking one of Peter's offered hands. Stiles looks down to where Peter is looking; Stiles' ejaculate is shiny on the carpet. Peter steps over and grinds it into the carpet with one of his shoes. Stiles winces in sympathy for the cleaners. 

“So you're not sending me home tonight, sweet one?” Peter asks. 

Stiles smiles, feeling it slide loose across his face, too relaxed to keep it in place. “I was never going to, sweetiepie.” 

Peter's mouth forms a little 'o' before he recovers. “Well then, it'll be an interesting night in any case.” 

“Why?”

Peter grins. “Wait. You're not a good enough actor to fake surprise.” He kisses Stiles on the tip of his nose. 

They go back, Peter dragging him by his hand again. 

“Now I know something about you that no-one else does,” Peter says, “maybe even yourself.”

“What?”

“You like a bit of pain mixed in with you pleasure,” Peter smirks and then they're being accosted by crew. Peter shrugs them off, going back into the party. 

Lydia rushes up, looking flushed. “You turned your mic off!” Lydia fumbles at the back of Stiles' pants where his battery pack is, Stiles suddenly irrationally scared she'll be able to smell sex on him. “There, it's back on. What happened? He didn't do anything, did he? We were so scared that some aggressive Alpha had dragged you off you do... things with you and we couldn't find you--!”

“No,” Stiles shakes his head firmly, “Nothing non-consensual happened.”

“What does that mean?” Lydia snapped. “Nothing non-consensual? Something consensual happened, is that what you're saying?”

“No, nothing.” 

Lydia narrows her eyes at him. 

“You- You were implying, so I was just saying – nothing like that happened. That's all. Nothing happened. He just wanted to talk.”

“What about?” Lydia cocks a hip, one hand on it. 

“About keeping him tonight and... maybe until the final two.” 

Lydia tuts and shakes her head. “That's the sort of thing we want on camera. And you can't go out of range like that. It's not safe. We need to be able to know where you are so we know that you're safe, Stiles! You're a soon-to-be-famous Omega surrounded by Alphas! And it doesn't have to be one of the contestants, one of the crew...” Lydia shakes her head. “Don't wander off like that again.” 

“Peter dragged me off, I didn't wander!” 

“Well that might explain some of why we were so desperate to find you, wouldn't it?” 

Lydia has a point so Stiles nods and follows her back into the party. 

“You look really nice tonight,” Stiles says as emotional bribery but Lydia shakes her head at him. She does look really nice; she's wearing black pants with a jewel-green fitted top. Here hair is up for a change which suits her. 

The contestants are looking at Stiles oddly as he enters, some still looking at where Peter is in a corner arguing with crew. Stiles watches as Peter stalks out of the party, a crew member on either side of him. 

“What's happening with Peter? Is he in trouble?” Stiles asks. 

“He's had enough time with you tonight. We'll bring him back for the selection ceremony,” Lydia explains. “Have fun.” 

 

~~~ 

 

The cocktail party passes in a blur. Stiles is exhausted, a side effect on his meds Jackson explains. Being post-orgasm isn't helping any. Stiles slumps on a couch, sipping his non-alcoholic beverages and eating fruit flan after fruit flan as the server goes by. He talks with Duke. Derek and Laura chat in the corner, Laura sparing him a smile but she doesn't come and talk to him during the night. The others must be sympathetic to the fact Duke couldn't play the game with them because they leave the two of them alone for a good chunk of time. 

Duke is very easy to talk to. His presence is calming and his accent is charming. Stiles nods along, letting Duke take the lead because he doesn't have the energy to participate. 

Danny and Ethan come and speak with him, Danny nudging Ethan forward. Even then Ethan can barely come up with a topic of conversation while Danny sits back and Stiles struggles to keep his eyes open. 

Scott's already won a rose, as has Chris who isn't even here tonight. Peter's been exiled. Derek's already spoken with him and doesn't feel the need to repeat the experience. Laura is keeping her antisocial brother company. The conversation with Ethan doesn't last long, Danny following off after him.

Stiles ends up spending a lot of time with Erica, and then more time with Scott and Duke. 

Once the Producers feel like they have enough they call an end to it and everyone is herded back down to the grounds. There is an arch of flowers and balloons reminiscent of a wedding arch, near a stand with a plate of roses. There's a stand that's been erected so half the Alphas can stand on it, Peter already there, the other half in front of them, all of them easily in frame. Bizarrely, there's two large video screens either side of the stand. 

Stiles is offered caffeine pills, then when he says no he's offered hot coffee (“I'll have some,” Erica calls out and is ignored), then iced coffee which Stiles grudgingly accepts. When there's a technical issue with some of the lights and shooting is delayed 15 minutes he's given Pixy Stix and Mountain Dew like he's a contestant on Toddlers & Tiaras. 

Finally, everyone is in position, everything's working and Lydia shouts, “Action!” 

“I have- I'm here tonight – We're here tonight.” Stiles coughs and then sways, eyelids fighting gravity. 

Braeden walks up quickly, crouching down behind the table table with roses on it. “We're here tonight,” she call-whispers out, “for our third selection ceremony.”

“We're here tonight... for our... third...”

“Selection ceremony,” Braeden hisses. 

“For our third selection ceremony.”

“I will select,” Braeden hisses and waits for Stiles to repeat it, “six contestants to join Chris and Scott.” She pauses and Stiles announces it, having to repeat himself as he slurs, “After tonight there will only be eight of you left.” Pause. “One of you will be leaving to go home, joining Cora.”

After managing that part Stiles turns and asks, “Is there more?” He sounds like he's whining to his own ears. 

“We'll leave it out. We've got enough. Go ahead,” Lydia calls out and Braeden darts back out of frame to rejoin the crew. 

Scott is already standing off to Stiles' side with the rose given to him earlier. 

“Erica,” Stiles calls out. Erica walks over and accepts the rose with a kiss to his cheek. 

“Laura,” Stiles calls. “Duke.”

Stiles looks out and smiles at Peter, making eye contact. He opens his mouth. “Derek.” Derek looks dully surprised but walks out to accept it silently, without a kiss or hug like Stiles had received from the others. Danny, Ethan and Peter are still standing before him. “Danny.” 

Stiles likes the idea of making Peter sweat a little after their earlier conversation. For Peter's part, he's smirking back. 

As prompted Stiles calls out, “This is the final rose.” Stiles makes eye contact with Peter again and opens his mouth to call Peter's name. 

“Wait!” Peter shouts. He steps forward. Stiles has one moment of thinking Peter is going to say he wants to leave the show, then Peter is taking Stiles' hands. “There's something I need to tell you.” Peter half-turns and points at Ethan dramatically. “Ethan has betrayed you!” 

Peter turns back to Stiles. “He's been sleeping with someone in the house. I just had to let you know, I couldn't let you keep him without letting you know the truth.”

Stiles looks over to the side where the Producers are watching silently rather than running around doing damage control. A word, a descriptor for Peter written in black ink springs to the front of Stiles' memory, 'TRUTH-TELLER'. 

“The truth?” Stiles repeats. “Is this what you were talking about earlier?” 

Peter nods and makes an almost silent shush noise. 

Stiles smiles and lets himself by pulled into the telenovela script, his eyes echoing the co-conspiratorial glint in Peter's. “Betrayed? Ethan's been sleeping with someone? But who!?” Stiles thinks he sounds like an idiot but they play that line in the adverts for weeks leading up to the episode. 

Peter raises his arm then swivels it to point at the crowd standing with roses next to Stiles. “With HIM!” 

Stiles turns and thinks he's pointing at Scott, but Scott turns ands gasps out, “Danny!?” 

The screens set up next to the stands, where Ethan is standing alone in shocked silence, suddenly turn on and there's a compilation reel of Ethan and Danny flirting, then kissing, then shots of what looks like two people moving underneath blankets. It ends with a shot of Danny promising Ethan he'll get Stiles to keep Ethan another week so they can spend more time together. 

“I promise, Stiles really likes me, I can get him to keep you if I pretend to still be interested in him,” the on-screen version of Danny says and then kisses Ethan. The video fades back to black on that image. 

Stiles turns to Danny. “What the FUCK?” They have to bleep it, but they keep that in the episode. Stiles does feel betrayed, not by Ethan but by Danny who'd he'd been thinking of bringing to at least the final four. “WHAT THE FUCK?”

“I-I really like him,” Danny says in defence of his actions. “He's my boyfriend.” 

Lydia steps into the shot and announces, “We'll have to investigate these claims,” as if the video that had played on the screens had mysteriously come into existence rather than being carefully edited and played at exactly the right time by technical error, “But given what we know, Ethan and Danny, you're both being asked to leave tonight.” 

Stiles stares at Lydia and then murmurs to himself, “That's why you got your hair done.” 

Stiles expects Danny to protest but he looks down and nods. When he looks up he says to Stiles, “I'm sorry, I really liked you. I just liked Ethan more.” 

Stiles glares at him. Peter reaches out and takes Stiles' hand, making a soothing noise with his mouth but Stiles snatches his hand away and storms off. The episode ends with a shot of Stiles angrily taking his jacket off, rubbing at his eyes to imply tears whereas Stiles' eyes physically ached from exhaustion. 

Stiles fell asleep in the bus while the crew packed up the equipment. He could barely be woken to take himself out of the bus and walk a few steps to the golfcart several hours later.

Little did Stiles know that he has just filmed the episode that would mark the beginning of Tying The Knot's most popular and most-viewed season in the history of the show.


	11. Day 14 - Deucalion & Derek Double Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: For 'Dynanism' aka metaphorical sexism.

“So we're down to seven contestants,” is the first thing Lydia says the next time she sees him, having brought him breakfast and medication. 

“I don't want it,” Stiles says of the pill in its little blister pocket. “It makes me sleepy.”

“Do you feel more relaxed on it, though?” Lydia asks. “Because one might out-weight the other.” 

Stiles palms at his eyes. He's been asleep for so long he's got a mild headache but his eyes still won't open fully. 

“You have today off, so it doesn't matter if you're sleepy today. You need to take your medicine, or see Dr Deaton.”

“Ugh.” Stiles accepts the pill. 

“You'll have to see Deaton tomorrow anyway for confessionals but we're doing the contestants' confessionals and moving Ethan and Danny out of the mansion today so it can wait.”

“I barely remember anything anyway.” 

“So confessionals tomorrow. Day after that it's the two-on-one. Day after that it's a group date with four of them. Bit tricky, since with seven that means only one person misses out but oh well. Then a day off for confessionals. Then group date before the cocktail party and selection ceremony. I'm been speaking to everyone and we're going to try and make it a lot earlier for you. I think I can convince everyone to have the cocktail party in the afternoon and film the selection ceremony at sun-set. That should be fine, and you can't handle being awake until 3am again.” Lydia clicks her fingers at Stiles to make sure he's awake and paying attention. “Any ideas for your two-on-one and group date four?” She helps herself to some of the toast she's brought over for Stiles' breakfast. 

“I've already decided on Derek and Duke,” Stiles says. “Didn't I tell you that?” 

“Okay, we're sending Derek home, easily done. The house is half Hales anyway. What about the four out of Chris, Erica, Peter, Scott and Laura?” 

“Leave out Peter,” Stiles grumbles. “I spent time with him last night.”

“Good idea.” Lydia sounds overly pleased about it. 

“Wait,” Stiles sits up fully, “is Chris out of quarantine?”

“He should be tomorrow.”

“I'd like to talk to him.”

“I'll see if I can arrange that after we film your confessionals.” 

Stiles lays down, yawning, too sleepy for food. “Thanks Lydia.” He falls asleep to the sound of Lydia putting his breakfast in his fridge. 

 

~~~

 

The double date with Derek and Duke arrives before Stiles knows it. The day before had been hour after hour of talking with Deaton. They'd even had to break for lunch and then resume filming. Stiles' butt had gone numb on the stupid director's chair. Deaton had asked Stiles the same question over and over until Stiles had finally given an exact answer in the exact way they wanted. By the end of it he'd been talking absolute gibberish, word-vomiting thoughts out of his brain with no idea if they even made any sense. He'd talked about Mating Chris and Peter and Scott with absolute certainty, and being 100 years old with Laura and having 50 kids with Erica. He'd talked about why he'd break up with each of them, down to their annoying habits and unattractive physical characteristics in a way he'd never say to anyone's face, or even allow to enter the forefront of his brain if he hadn't been worn down by hours of probing. Deaton had explained it helped to have a range of answers so they could use whatever relevant clip as needed, depending on where the narrative goes.

As soon as Stiles had left the room he'd started to cry, hurrying to his private sitting room before anyone could see him. He felt raw. After all that he'd been told Chris wasn't well enough to see him yet, and he'd have to wait, and was shepherded back to his flat to wallow in peace. 

After the forced-therapy of yesterday he feels physically lighter and slightly... numb. The medicine is probably also helping even out his moods considerably. 

God, he misses his Dad. He hasn't thought about him much compared to how much he'd thought he would but at the moment it's enough to almost bring him to tears again. He wants to go home to his room, to his bed, to his privacy, to his Dad's lasagne and hugs. 

He's feeling homesick but still kind of empty as he's golf-carted to the mansion the next morning. He's wearing a blue button-up, the neck open, and pale beige trousers with leather boat shoes and a matching belt. It screams 'expensive'. Stiles has been told they're going on a mini-cruise but not much else. 

Stiles films his entrance to the mansion twice, golf-cart nowhere in sight, and then is greeted in the lounge by all the contestants. Erica, Scott, Derek, Laura, Peter, Duke and Chris are sitting in a semi-circle waiting for him. 

“Chris!” Stiles says, beaming. Chris looks tired, wearing his clothes like they're pyjamas. Stiles takes a second to double-guess himself but starts forward and opens his arms. It takes Chris a second to catch on but he stands up and returns the gesture, hugging Stiles. “I was so worried about you.” Stiles nuzzles in, taking a big whiff where Chris' shoulder meets his neck. “You smell amazing.” He smells like soothing laundry detergent, muffins and fruit salad, and underneath all that something smoky and spicy. Homey and safe and good. Chris lets go and it takes Stiles a second to realise and let go as well. 

“I'm good,” Chris says but his voice is rough like he's damaged his throat while being trapped in that sound-proofed room. He coughs to clear it. “I'm fine.” 

“I'm glad. I-I hope I didn't make anything... you know, worse or anything.” 

Chris shakes his head. “I was due.” 

“Oh, okay.” Stiles awkwardly returns to the front of the room. “So...” Stiles consults his cue cards being held up by staff near the camera. “Today is the day of our second two-on-one date where one person will be sent home and the other will receive a rose. If you receive the rose ahead of this week's selection ceremony, you will have immunity at the ceremony and definitely stay an extra week.” Stiles waits for the cards to be swapped. “If you are not given the rose, you will return home immediately, so you should have already packed and if your name is called you should take this opportunity to say your goodbyes.” Pause while the cards are switched. 

Lydia interrupts before Stiles can begin, “Do a big pause between the names, Stiles. For the cut-to-break. Going on the date is – dot dot dot – Person A, and joining us is – dot dot dot – person B.” She waves her hands in a shoo-ing motion to get him to continue. 

“Going on this week's two-on-one is,” Stiles stops and looks at Lydia who gives him a thumbs up. Stiles counts to ten in his head, studying the contestants. Erica is biting her lip. Scott is beaming with all the warmth of the sun, Derek is staring at a potted plant, Laura looks politely interested by not invested, Peter is grinning distractedly. When Peter notices Stiles looking he licks his lower lip suggestively. Duke is looking in Stiles' general direction, sunglasses on, stick braced on the ground with both hands crossed on top of it in his customary pose, and Chris looks like he wants a nap. 

“Duke,” Stiles calls out. “And joining us is...” He counts to ten again, noticing everyone shifting, mentally calculating their chances of going home against Duke if their name is called. “Derek!” 

There's a sigh of relief from the other contestants. Derek frowns at the pot plant. Duke's smile picks up a tick. 

“And where are we going, sweet one?” Duke asks. 

“On a boat,” Stiles says. 

“On a mini-cruise!” Lydia say insistently. 

“On a mini-cruuuuuuise!” Stiles says, pretending he's on a games show announcing the prizes. Most of the contestants laugh. 

“Wonderful,” Duke says. 

“Yeah,” glares Derek. Derek gets a hug from Laura and a pat on the shoulder from Peter. Erica gives him a big hug as well, more demonstrative than Laura's. He gets another pat from Scott.

Duke's hand is shaken by Peter and Laura. 

Chris wastes no time heading back upstairs without even a goodbye. 

“So you're getting to go on the cruise with them?” Erica asks Boyd who she's sidled up to while Boyd is standing near Stiles. “Lucky duck. Wish I was going with you guys.” 

“I'm sure we'd all have more fun if you were there,” Boyd says in his calm, even voice. 

Erica smiles at him and it makes Stiles do a double-take. Something about it.... But he's being paranoid after Danny a few days ago. Of course Erica is friendly with Boyd, so is Stiles, Boyd's a good guy. If Stiles were a contestant he'd try to be friends with Boyd. This is nothing. 

Stiles moves to the front of the house with Derek and Duke so they can be filmed exiting and travelling to the limo. Stiles gets to guide Duke, Duke's hand clasping Stiles' elbow firmly, his white stick waving several inches above the ground in front of them. 

“This is rather odd, isn't it?” Duke asks, “The Omega leading the Alpha.” 

“Yeah I guess,” Stiles says. 

In the limo they somehow end up talking about how Derek is a Beta, and his sisters are Alphas. 

“It's odd, isn't it?” Duke says, “When men are statistically more likely to be Alphas. To have several Alpha sisters, and not be an Alpha yourself. What do your parents think?” 

“They don't have a problem with it,” Derek says, jaw set so his words grind out from between his teeth. 

Stiles hurries to change the subject. “My Mum was an Alpha,” he says. “My Dad's a Beta. He's still obsessed with this show though. Did you guys watch this show before you came on it?” 

“No,” Derek says, glaring out a window. 

“I don't watch much of any sort of TV,” Duke says. 

“Oh god,” Stiles says, “I'm sorry- I didn't mean it like that – Do you- I mean, like, background noise? Do you watch- listen, do you listen to – do you have any favourite shows to listen to, you know?” 

“I don't own a tv,” Duke says. 

“What do you do for fun?” Stiles asks. 

“I read.”

Stiles has a Twilight Zone moment before he remembers Braille exists. “Right. Yes. Intellectual. I don't read as much as I should. I've just started on Agatha Christie. She's really good. Lots of murder on islands.” 

Talking about books gets them through arriving at the helicopter pad, the helicopter ride, and short limo ride to the dock where the cruise ship is waiting.

Derek jumps on like he was born to it, helping Stiles onto the boat. 

“I've never been on a boat before,” Stiles says as he clings to Derek desperately. 

Duke refuses help from both Stiles and Derek, only allowing staff of the boat to help him aboard.

There's a sitting area at the back of the boat with food and wine set up. They sit down there for the safety lecture from the Captain and then they're whizzing off into the marina. 

“How long will we be out here?” Derek asks Jackson who's seated opposite, behind where Boyd is kneeling to film them. 

Jackson shrugs. “Couple of hours.” Next to him Lydia is tapping a million miles a minute on her smart phone and Braeden has her head tilted back, face soaking up the sun and sea breeze spray.

Neither Derek not Duke are feeling chatty so Stiles relocates around the edge of the boat to sit near the front, legs dangling through the railing and swinging above the ocean. 

Derek comes to join him eventually, Stiles hearing Jackson cajoling him into it before Derek physically appears. 

“Are you having fun?” 

“I'm thinking about how much my Dad would love this,” Stiles sighs. “I wish I could afford to take him out on day-trips like this.” 

“My family owns a boat like this,” Derek says which explain his comfort but at the same time is completely socially tone deaf. Stiles doesn't have anywhere to take that comment so he just lets it lie there between them. 

“I mean,” Derek starts again. “If you ever wanted to borrow... we live near each other, don't we? And if you and Laura, or Peter got together... you could borrow the boat, I mean. My Dad would love to take your dad out fishing, or whatever. You don't have to choose one of them, that's not what I'm saying, Dad would love to have someone to listen to all his old fishing stories who hasn't heard them before anyway.” 

“That's really nice of you,” Stiles says, genuinely touched. 

Derek shrugs, clearly uncomfortable. “We own the boat. We pay all those fees, we may as well use it.” 

They sit in a companionable silence for a while. 

“Derek, can I ask you something that I've been wondering for a while?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why are you on the show? Or is it me? Would you have wanted to be on the show with someone different?”

“What do you mean?”

“You just don't seem to really... care.”

“Oh.” There's more silence while Derek crafts his thoughts. “I was pressured to go on because of my parents. When we got the offer, because it was an Omega from our area, they were really enthusiastic about getting as many Hales on the show as possible. Good PR, you know. And I don't really date. I think they thought it would challenge my comfort zone.”

Stiles laughs. “I think they're right. You're well outside your comfort zone.” 

Derek smiles at the teasing. 

“Why don't you date? You're handsome, you're a Hale, you've got land, money. If I were you I'd be all over the dating scene.”

Derek opens his mouth then closes it several times, frown deepening. “I did date. Once. It didn't work out. So now I don't date.”

“Once? And you've given up?” 

Derek thins his lips. “Whatever. I don't expect you to understand. I don't want to talk about it.”

“Okay, okay, sorry. I am, really. I didn't know it was such a sore spot. Obviously. I don't really date either.” 

“Why not?” 

Stiles shrugs. “Lack of exposure. Embarrassment. If I date someone my age I'd compare where we are in our lives and I'm not where I want to be.” 

“No-one's where they want to be when they're your age.”

“Your not THAT much older than me, Derek. Look at you, giving out life advice like you're a grandpa who's lived through a world war.”

Derek makes eye contact and smirks and Stiles's stomach disappears in response. “I guess not.” 

They get called back to the back of the boat where Duke is sitting. Derek picks up a thread from their old conversation and asks Stiles what about his situation he has to be embarrassed about. 

“Mostly my lack of job,” Stiles says. “I have a university degree. I can't even get a full-time job. I'm still living with my Dad. I thought at my age I'd be moved out, saving for a house. You know.” 

Duke interjects, “It's not as bad as it seems. People these days have all these ideas about Omegas and what they need to do. It's ridiculous. Of course you struggle with work. That's not you're destiny. You'll meet an Alpha and get Mated and then you'll have to leave your job anyway, and you'll move from your father's house to your Mate's, the way it should be.” 

Stiles' jaw drops down. He can't process what he's hearing, it's like Duke just started speaking Klingon. Stiles turns to Derek who is also sitting dead silent. They make eye contact and share a look of, '!?!??' 

In the silence Duke continues, “It's not proper for Omegas to be living alone.” 

“Well I wouldn't,” Stiles butts in, feeling the need to say anything at all, “I'd probably house-share. I'd have room-mates.” 

“That's even worse,” Duke sneers. “An unMated Omega in a house where there might be Alphas and Betas coming and going at all hours. You're much better off as you are, Stiles. You're much more attractive as a decent, innocent Omega who knows his place.” 

“M-My... place?” 

“Waiting for an Alpha to come and choose you so you can move to the next stage of your life.” 

Stiles' mouth is working like a fish. He has no script for this conversation, he's never had it before. He's only seen this in over-the-top tv shows where everyone watching laughs about how unrealistic it is because no-one talks that like anymore. 

“Are you joking?” Stiles finally asks. 

“No I am not,” Duke draws himself up fully, spine straight. “I think you should be proud of where you are in your life.” 

“Well,” Stiles finally manages to say, “I'm not. I want a job to put my degree to use and I want to live on my own before I'm Mated. I mean, I might never meet an Alpha or Beta, or even an Omega, to Mate with. Plenty of people don't find a Mate and they live full, happy lives.”

Duke laughs and it's cruel. “Who told you that? That these Omegas are happy? The Omegas themselves who are so desperate and in denial that they'll say anything to lessen their shame?” 

“Who else would get to decide if they're happy or not?” Stiles demands and his brain is picking up steam, “What? An Alpha needs to tell an Omega that they're happy on their own before it's true?”

“Yes,” Duke smiles, “That's right. An Omega can't know what happiness is if they don't know what they're missing out on. They're probably single though because they're ugly or disobedient and they've come up with this version of reality where it's their CHOICE to be single, as if an Omega could possibly want to be single. It's in their nature to be Mated.” 

Stiles laughs angrily. “Are you serious? Are you actually serious?” 

“Derek,” Duke says, turning slightly in Derek's direction, “You agree don't you?” As if he's asking politely if Derek agrees about the sky being blue. 

“No,” Derek frowns. “If my sisters were Omegas instead of Alphas my parents would have wanted exactly the same thing for them; an education, a purpose in their career, and a happy relationship. Nothing else would have mattered, like what Dynamic they were.”

Duke snorts and his speech begins to speed up slightly. “It's all very well to talk about what ifs, but we're dealing with reality. Whatever anyone says about how technically hypothetically we're all equal, that's irrelevant. It's a disservice to us all. We're not the same so we can't be equal. We're different, and Alphas and Betas and Omegas all need different things. That body that allows Omegas to have children is a wonderful thing and having a simpler brain where they can't make difficult decisions but enables Omegas to deal with children day in and day out is a wonderful thing as well. To not acknowledge Omegas gifts and limits for what they are is the true disrespect.” 

Stiles stands up and he can feel that his face is red. His anger is shaking out of him in the form of incredulous laughter. “That's so fucking ridiculous!” he yells, hands shaking. 

“Ah, he's emotional,” Duke scoffs. 

Stiles walks towards the cabin but then turns back. “There's seven billion people on the planet. BILLIONS. There's only three Dynamics. Even if each Dynamic, on average, has a bell-curve of ability, there's more over-lap than not. You can't have three groups, of the same fucking species, each with over a billion people inside it, and say there's more differences between the three than overlap between the billions. That doesn't make any fucking sense!” Stiles storms inside the cabin. He can't remember what he just said, thinks it was composed by having pretend arguments in the shower, and hopes it made some semblance of sense. 

When Lydia finds him Stiles demands, “I want to go home!” 

Outside he can hear Duke talking to Jackson and Braeden, laughing about the 'over-sensitive Omega'. Even though the producers aren't agreeing it sets Stiles' blood to boiling. He can't stop shaking. He wants to go back out and scream abuse at the Alpha and it's taking all his self control not to. 

Derek walks inside. “Are you okay?”

“A good fucking heap of good you were!” Stiles unleashes on him. “Letting me deal with that fucking Dynamist all on my fucking own!”

“I-I. You seemed to be handling it,” Derek says. He takes a moment and continues, “I'm not good with words – in the moment, I can't say... speak on the, in the - .” Derek presses his lips together. “I'm sorry.” Derek walks back out of the cabin and around to the front. 

“Make him turn the boat around!” Stiles demands of Lydia, pointing at the captain's cabin, tears now leaking down his face. Stiles wipes at his cheeks roughly. “Make him take us back to shore!” 

The boat isn't a dinghy but there's not a lot of space to hide that isn't crew-only. Knowing Duke is right outside is like a vegetable peeler on Stiles' nerves. He thinks about having to relive the whole thing with Deaton and wants to collapse. 

The producers get Duke off the boat immediately once they've docked. 

“I know it's obvious, but I just need to check,” Lydia says as she comes to kneel by Stiles' side, “We're sending Deucalion home?” 

Stiles nods. 

“And we're keeping Derek?” 

Stiles scrubs his expensive shirt sleeve underneath his nose before nodding. 

“Okay. Duke's being escorted to the limo right now. You don't have to speak with him.” 

“Lydia,” Stiles calls to stop her leaving. “Was that- did I overreact?” 

“No,” Lydia smiles. “You weren't hysterical in the least. You handled it really well.”

“You won't,” Stiles swipes at new tears before they can escape, “You won't edit it to make me look nuts, right? You won't make me look bad? For screaming and yelling? At a blind guy?” 

“No, Stiles, I promise.” 

Stiles wonders if she has the authority over that decision while he sits and waits to be allowed off the boat as well.

After the limo with Duke had left there was an impromptu rose ceremony with Derek on the back of the docked boat. Out of frame on the upper deck above the cabin the ship's crew stood and watched, fascinated. 

“I'm sorry I didn't speak up more earlier. I didn't know you wanted me to get involved,” Derek says before Stiles can say anything. 

“That's okay. It just would have been nice. You were kind of already involved, since you were there. I'm sorry I yelled at you and took my anger out on you. I shouldn't have.” 

Derek shook his head. “You're right. I was kind of involved. I just didn't want to be, so I pretended I wasn't but you didn't have that choice. It wasn't fair on you. I'm sorry.” 

Stiles holds out the rose but Derek doesn't take it. 

“You don't have to give that to me by default,” Derek grimaces. “I know, well I suspect if Duke hadn't have turned out to be... that ... then Duke would have gotten the rose. You don't have to keep me if you don't want to.” 

Stiles gazes contemplatively at the rose. “I really liked our little chat today. And at the cocktail party. I think there's more to you than I've seen, I'm slowly peeling back the layers, like an onion. The more I see the more I like you.” Stiles holds out the rose again. “You don't have to accept it if you don't want to, either.” 

Derek takes the rose. “I liked the chat as well.” He smiles shyly. 

Stiles wishes only he'd seen that smile, he doesn't want to share it with the camera. 

“Can we get a kiss?” Jackson calls out then makes a smoochy face like an emoji. 

“No,” Derek snaps. 

Stiles wouldn't have said no but understands. Derek's very reserved, it makes sense he wouldn't be one for public displays of affection. Stiles is starting to realise what comes across as moodiness and antisocial behaviour is Derek's introverted-ness and lack of social experience.

Derek's right, he's staying by luck. Stiles is realising Derek might be someone worth getting to know but they've taken the first step of their relationship when everyone else started the race two weeks ago. Peter, Derek's uncle, sucked his dick a few days ago for goodness sake. Stiles doesn't know if he and Derek are going to be able to make up for lost time. Plus Christmas dinner with the Hale family would be super awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loving the comments! Final choice is locked in, I've 100% mentally written the last chapter/episode and now I need to come up with all the details of all the episodes leading up to it. I have a rough order of elimination and reasons and we're going to have a guest spot from Kira sometime soon, last season's Omega contestant, and some other people might show up! Please feel free to comment on any theories of your own.


	12. Day 16 - Group Date

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was inspired by me thinking, 'You know what we need? Some Drama.' Also, as most of you would have realised by now, I decide on the tense of a passage by spinning a wheel. That's part of the fun.

Stiles is thinking about watching the contestants on TV and their reactions to Derek staying and Duke being sent home when he gets home in several weeks, wondering who his Dad will be rooting for, as he's golf-carted to the manor for the group date. 

The day before had been spent doing confessionals. Stiles was glad that being sent home straight from the date meant Duke couldn't do a proper confessional of his own. An acidic pit of worry was still sitting in Stiles' gut, but the meds were keeping it at bay. After having a negative encounter Stiles tended to circle the memory around and around in his mind, letting it gnaw on his insides, accomplishing nothing. Now he was able to partly put it from his mind, distract himself; the feeling was much less intense, slipping from his fingers when it started to build into something panic attack-worthy. 

Stiles yawned, briefly annoyed at the side-effects as he felt the familiar urge for a nap after having a very long sleep the night before. 

It was old hat to wait for a signal and be filmed striding towards the front doors, walking through the entry hall to the lounge, and coming to a stop where the contestants were sat in the lounge. 

It was odd to think there had been 12 contestants to start with as six sat looking back at him; Scott, Derek, Erica, Peter, Chris and Laura. 

Stiles repeated what the Producers had written for him, occasionally glancing at the cue cards. “Hello everyone. Last week three people were sent home. Deucalion has already left this week. Another person will also be leaving this week. We have a group date today with four of you. Derek won't be included as he's already been on a date this week. The four of you coming on the group date with me today are: Scott, Erica, Laura and Chris.” 

Cameras captured their reactions and then they re-shot the scene. Stiles repeated the names and the contestants were filmed making surprised/happy faces, their producers yelling and miming instructions.

Laura, Chris and Scott were all Braeden's contestants while Greenberg had Erica left. Jackson got to stay home with his contestants, Peter and Derek. 

“Braeden's doing well,” Stiles commented to Lydia as they waited for the cameras to set up to film them exiting the manor into the limo. 

“How do you mean?” Lydia asks, tilting her head. 

“She has the most contestants left,” Stiles explained. “Like you said, you want your contestants to last until the final two so you stick around to produce them.”

“Oh, that! Yes, she's got a real eye for picking 'em.”

“Hey,” Peter said, coming up and nudging Stiles' elbow. “No date for me today?” 

Stiles smiled. “Date's are for letting me get to know people better. I thought you made quite an impression at the last group date.” Stiles inched closer to Peter, having the urge to pluck at Peter's shirt buttons. 

“Hey, hey, save it for the camera,” Lydia said, shooing Peter away. “Jackson!” she yelled. Peter departed with Jackson, making a dramatic sad face about having to leave. 

This group date was at a winery. The limo ride there was filled with casual conversation. The four of them had a rapport Stiles sat and watched with some jealousy. It made sense; they spent a lot of time together. Stiles managed to not say a lot. He felt almost like a fifth wheel, the others discussing events at the house and referencing in-jokes. 

At the winery they got to go on a horse-ride and the contestants acknowledged Stiles now, vying for his attention in front of the cameras. Stiles sought out Chris, asking him how he was and how his Rut was trapped in the house. Chris was vague, not giving any of the nitty gritty details Stiles was rudely hungry for. 

Scott was happy to chat, instantly brightening Stiles' mood. Erica was oddly silent, everytime Stiles looked over at her she was gazing serenely out at the horizon or studying the grapes and mountains. Laura looked unsure on the house. As they talked Stiles found out her parents had had some horses on their property when she was growing up, and had taken lessons from her aunts and uncles. 

“It's just been so long,” she said, laughing self-consciously while sitting very upright on the horse. 

Stiles, who was gripping the reins in a deathgrip and had to keep remembering to relax his legs, laughed with her. “You're doing better than me.” 

“You're doing great,” she said. “You're naturally good with animals.”

“Well, I don't know who told you that.”

“Did you have pets growing up?” 

“My parents had a dog but it died from old age when I was like, six, and I don't remember it at all. When I move out I want a dog, though. Or a cat. AND a cat. ” 

“I'm more of a cat person,” Laura said, “Or goldfish.”

“What about Derek?” Stiles asked before he could question whether that was a good idea. “Or Peter?” 

“Peter has a big black dog for a guard dog. Derek has a smaller dog, but still big, and he's always taking it hiking. I come from a family of dog-lovers.” 

“Well that's good to know,” Stiles murmurs, frowning. Derek and Peter haven't mentioned their pets. That's first date conversation but it hasn't come up yet. Has it? Maybe they mentioned it at the first cocktail party? No, because Derek had been avoiding him at first. Has Peter mentioned it? He might have. But Peter doesn't genuinely want to be his Mate so he's probably not sharing everything with him he would with an actual romantic partner. Peter had asked Stiles to choose him, and then put an expiry date of a year on their hypothetical relationship. 

Stiles was sad, staring at the dirt passing by beneath hooves, when their guide called them to a halt. They'd arrived at the main house/restaurant. 

There was a dinner, seven courses, each paired with a different wine from the winery. Stiles was given coloured water in wine glasses. After that the contestants and Stiles were given swimsuits and lead to a hottub that the owner of the establishment off-handedly explained had been purpose-built for the episode. 

Stiles happily jumped into the water, eager to hide his seven-course food bump on his lanky frame. Somehow he was still hungry. Chris was a step beyond tipsy, happy to cuddle up to Stiles, laughing in a way that deeper crinkled the skin around his beautiful eyes. Stiles was wishing Chris would kiss him, every molecule vibrating with it, leaning towards him like a sunflower towards the sun. Chris wasn't initiating anything, the memory of his Rut and the mounted camera only as far away as needed because of the splash-zone putting him off being physical with Stiles. 

The water was bubbling along at half-intensity, enough to obscure their bottom halves as Chris ran his knuckles along the outside of Stiles' nearest thigh. Chris was talking about his house and his dream hobby farm and his work and his family, expression giving nothing away. 

Stiles felt drunk despite not toughing any of the wine. Chris smelled amazing. Stiles kept calculating the cost/benefit of just surging over and straddling Chris and sticking his tongue down his throat. Chris probably wouldn't appreciate it. Peter would... but Peter wasn't here. Stiles shook his head to get the thought of anyone else out of it. 

“I want to kiss you,” Stiles said, interrupting whatever Chris was saying. 

Chris leant forward, scenting him. He groaned. “You smell like you're trying to send me into Rut again.” 

Stiles leant in and Chris leant back. 

“Not on camera,” Chris whispered. His eyes looked even paler, glowing. He leant forward, pressing a kiss to Stiles' neck. “Later,” he mouthed. Stiles shivered, squeezing his thighs together as Chris lightly pressed his teeth to Stiles' neck. 

After Chris drew back Stiles almost fell out of the tub, reaching out to grab the rose for the group date off its nearby pedestal and thrusting it at Chris. “Do you want to stay another week? So there's a later?” Stiles asked. 

Chris took it. He pressed a kiss to the rose then brushed it against Stiles' mouth. “Later,” he murmured. 

Stiles is deeply flattered by the erection tenting Chris' swimsuit when Chris' solo time ends and he had to clamber out of the tub. 

Next is Erica. They're laughing and splashing in no time. Erica leans fully up against Stiles' side. Her breasts are brushing up against him. Erica smiles, tilting her head. Stiles smiles back, copying her. They have a short conversation with their eyes and then they're leaning in at the same time. 

“Cut!” Boyd calls from where he's standing with a camera on his shoulder. 

“What?” Stiles jerks back. “Why?” 

“The lighting is wrong.”

“What?” asks the Assistant Director standing nearby. “No it's not.” 

“What lighting?” Lydia demands. 

Boyd stands there silently for a moment. “That candle,” he eventually says, pointing at one of the 500 candles littered around, this particular one sitting between him and the hottub. 

“What!?” demands Greenberg, Erica's producer. “WHAT!? They were about to kiss!” 

“It's disrupting the shot,” Boyd says. 

“Well then move,” Greenberg and Lydia shout at him at the same time. 

Boyd moves a foot to the side and looks down at the view-finder. “All better,” he says. “You can continue.”

“That's not for you to say,” the Assistant Director snaps. “We're still rolling!” 

“Action!” Lydia yells, waving her hands in a shoo-motion at the two of them, “Continue!”

Stiles looks back at Erica, grimacing, ready to bond over whatever just happened but Erica is still looking at Boyd. Stiles studies Erica. She's looking at Boyd the same way she looked at the sky and mountains. 

Erica eventually looks back at Stiles. “You want to make out?” she asks before taking a sip of he wine, fluttering her eyelashes at him. 

“Um. Yeah. But...” Stiles looks between her and Boyd. He remembers finding the two of them in his sitting room, wondering what they were doing there. “Have you and Boyd been spending a lot of time together in the house?” 

Erica's face freezes in a smile. “No. Why?” 

Stiles remembers Boyd the Beta affected by Erica's Alpha pheromones at the photo-shoot. 

“Do you- do you like Boyd?” Stiles asks. 

“Keep filming!” Lydia orders Boyd on the sidelines. 

“No- I- yeah. Yeah, I mean- he's a likeable guy. Don't you like him?”

“I do like him. But I think, differently, from you.”

Erica looks frozen. “It's not like with Danny,” she says, “And Aiden. We're just friends. We like spending time together. I like you. I like-like you! Don't you feel that?” 

“I do feel that. I like-like you too. But... do you like Boyd more than me?” 

Erica's gaze darts between everyone in the room, lingering on Greenberg and Lydia. “I'm not here for him.” 

Greenberg looks like he's having a heart-attack. Lydia looks hungry like a lion that's spotted a limping gazelle. 

“Do you want me to not choose you at the rose ceremony?” Stiles asks. 

“No,” Lydia says, “That's not how it works. If there's been inappropriate conduct-”

“Nothing happened!” Boyd defends. 

“- we need to investigate it. It needs to come out into the open,” Lydia finishes. 

“Nothing happened,” Erica echoes. “I tried it, but Boyd refused because of the show.” 

“Crew and contestants are not allowed to pursue romantic relationships,” Lydia says, “There's an inherent power-imbalance.”

“I know!” Boyd says, “That's what I said! That's why nothing happened.” 

“You don't need to put this in the show,” Erica was drawing in on herself. 

“It's too late for that. If you didn't want your relationship with Boyd on the show, then don't have a relationship with Boyd while you're on the show!” Greenberg snarls, probably angry about losing his last contestant. 

Erica turns to Stiles. “You can't let this be on the show! They're going to make it into something it's not!” 

Stiles shakes his head. “I don't have any control over the show. I have as much control as you do.” 

“You're the star!” Erica says. “You do have control!” 

Stiles looks at Boyd who won't meet his eyes. 

“Nothing happened?” Stiles asks Boyd. 

“Something happened,” Lydia says, “Or Boyd wouldn't be calling cut over some candle. We're on Tying The Knot! If he couldn't film around a candle he wouldn't be here.” 

“Nothing happened,” Boyd agrees. 

“But you want something to happen? Like when the show ends?” Stiles asks. 

Boyd looks between Erica and Stiles. “Yeah,” he says, “When the show is over I was going to ask Erica out. If you didn't choose her. Which I thought you would because... look at her.” 

Lydia gasps, excited at the narrative presented before her. 

“Keep filming,” the Assistant Director yells at no-one. Boyd's camera is pointed at the floor and no-one's turned off the mounted camera. 

After that comment Erica is ushered out of the hottub and out of the room, and Boyd is ordered to stay in the room and not leave until given permission. 

Stiles sits in the bubbles, feeling lost. 

Laura is brought in wearing a cheery blue and white striped one-piece. 

“Hi,” she says cheerfully. “How are you?” 

Stiles can't conjure up something to say. 

“Did something happen?” Laura asks, concern based on Stiles' expression. 

“Uh. Yeah.” 

“What? What happened?” Laura looks around as if for a clue. 

Boyd is standing nearby, filming them stone-faced as if nothing has happened. 

“Uh, Erica,” is all Stiles can say without adding a sound-bite they might use in an episode. 

Laura makes a face. “That makes sense. She seems like a trouble-maker.” 

Stiles frowns at Laura. “No, it's not like at all.” He looks at the small crowd gathered nearby. Make-up/costume, boom operator, assistant director, production assistant. Looks at Boyd, normally quiet, who's turned to a grey rock. “I need to pee,” he announces and gets out of the tub. 

He finds Lydia and Greenberg down the hall. They're on speakerphone with Finstock. He can see Erica in the next room, under house-arrest by another PA. 

“Hey,” he interrupts. “I don't want that in the episode. If they say nothing has happened, I believe them.”

“That's all very well but Boyd is probably going to get fired,” Greenberg says. 

“That's not fair!” Erica cries from the doorway. “He didn't do anything!” 

“Says you,” Greenberg smirks. “We're going to go through all the CCTV and the second we find anything, he's gone.”

Erica pulls Stiles away from the group, further down the corridor. Lydia watches them like a hawk. The PA does a little dance like they're not sure if they should follow them. 

“We did kiss,” she confesses in a whisper. 

“Shit. Would they have footage of it?”

“Probably! Fuck, Stiles, what am I going to do? I kissed Boyd, it was 100% me. Boyd didn't encourage me at all. I mean, he was obviously interested in me, but he said after Danny and Aiden that we should cool it, if you find out it would really up-set you. We were going to exchange numbers and go on a date after filming ended, nothing more, I promise.” 

“Okay,” Stiles says, making a decision. “Okay.” They return to the group and he pulls Lydia aside.  
“I'm willing to make a deal,” he tells Lydia in a hushed voice. 

“What about?” 

“If you don't use that stuff about Boyd and Erica, any of it, no release to magazines or anything, no adverts, I'll give you guys something, and I'll get rid of Erica at the next ceremony as if everything's normal.”

“Give us what?” Lydia arches an eyebrow. 

Stiles can't come up with anything. “Name your price. You tell me, what do you guys want from me?”

Lydia's eyes light up. “I'll get back to you on it.”

“By when?”

“By the start of the selection ceremony day after next,” she promises and goes back to Greenberg who is being tinnily yelled at for something by Finstock.

Stiles has to return to the hottub where Laura is waiting. She looks like a model for hottubs, leaning back gracefully, champagne flute resting on her crossed knee poking out of the water. 

“I turned the bubbles off,” she says, “I hope you don't mind. I don't like bubbles in a hottub.”

That is the strangest thing Stiles' has ever heard but he just shrugs. Stiles can't bring himself to join in on a conversation and even Laura with all her business acumen can't single-handedly keep a conversation going for more than a few minutes. 

Laura seems relieved when she is dismissed and then Scott is brought in. 

“What time is it?” Stiles asks as Scott climbs in. “Is it getting late?” Stiles feels ready for a long nap before bedtime. 

“It's time for romance,” Scott grins, sidling up to Stiles. 

“Uh...” Stiles tries to subtlety edge away. 

Scott is already kissing the side of his neck. 

“Did they give you more wine while you were waiting?” Stiles asks. He can smell the sugary alcohol on Scott's breath from a distance. 

“Yep.” Scott smiles hugely, pleased with himself. He lays a kiss on Stiles, Stiles turning his head to the side, saliva streaking across Stiles' cheek.

“What's wrong?” Scott asks. 

“I've just found something out. About one of the contestants. I'm not in the mood for 'romance', sorry.”

“Oh.” Scott slumps down in his own seat, face dejected. 

Stiles instantly feels bad for rejecting him. “You really feel a connection between us, don't you?”

“Yes. I'm so ready for a relationship! Dogs in the backyard, couple of kids in the frontyard. I can't wait. I think we'd have the most amazing time together, Stiles! We like the same things, we get along awesome!” Scott ducks his head. “We're the same age... unlike some other people I won't name.”

Stiles thinks back to flirting with Chris just an hour or so ago. It doesn't feel like it took place in the same day. “Yeah,” Stiles says flatly. He'll have to tell him. He'll have to tell Scott the truth. 

He manages to avoid anymore kisses. Scott seems incredibly disappointed when he realises the groupdate rose is already gone. 

Once everything has been filmed and the equipment's being loaded into the van, Stiles grabs Scott. The van's not ready to leave yet and the limo is having trouble getting to the front door where they're waiting, giving them a one-off of being unsupervised and without a microphone attached to them. 

Stiles drags Scott off into the lines of grapes, Scott giggling like a schoolkid. As soon as they're out of eyesight Scott tries to kiss him again. Stiles physically ducks to get away from him. 

“What's going on?” Scott asks. 

“I like you a lot,” Stiles starts. 

“I like you a lot, too,” Scott smiles with his entire face. 

“But I don't like you... like that.”

“How do you mean?”

“I think you're an awesome friend. I like you a lot as a friend. I want to keep you around because I have So Much fun with you hanging out.” Scott still looks lost so Stiles continues, “I don't see us ending up together as Mates.” 

Scott's face falls. “What?” 

“I wanted to be honest with you because-”

“Because you've been stringing me along? I thought you liked me!? I liked you! A lot! I could see myself falling in lo-...” Scott turns away from Stiles, voice thick. “You don't like me? But what, you like Peter, that creep? Or Chris, who's old enough to be your own dad? Or Derek and Laura, the robot twins? Or Erica who would sleep with anyone if it gave her screentime?” 

Stiles winces. “That's not true.” 

“I really, really liked you! I've been honest with you, I've tried my best. Is that still not good enough? Am I not good enough?” Scott is crying and Stiles' heart is breaking. 

“You're more than enough and someone out there is going to think you're perfect-”

“Shut up, shut up! That's bullshit and you know it! I was so happy, being here, meeting you. I thought all of this reality dating might be crap and then we had an actual connection and I thought wow, how are we going to tell our grandkids we met on reality fucking tv?”

Stiles flinches like he's been slapped. He doesn't think he's heart Scott swear before. “I'm sorry,” he says.

“That's not good enough,” Scott shouts. “Why? Am I too... ugly? Stupid? What? Why don't you like me?”

“You're – you're wonderful,” Stiles protests. 

“Then why don't you want me?” Scott cries. Stiles can't answer that before Scott is stomping back to the house, audibly sobbing. 

Fuck. Stiles spins in a circle. Fuck. He spots Braeden looking at him, peering out from behind a row of grapes away from the path to the house. She has her cellphone in her hand, pointed at him. Fuck. Fuck!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loving the comments, oh my gosh! Please keep them coming. They really help motivate me to keep writing.


	13. Day 17 to 20 - Selection Ceremony

The next day all of them do confessionals. Stiles sees Scott in a hallway and Scott looks away immediately. It makes Stiles' stomach drop to the floor, it's such a contrast to how he would have greeted him the same time yesterday. Stiles might not have wanted Scott's attention but not having it is much worse. 

Stiles thinks: could he choose Scott? Maybe he could. Physical attraction isn't everything. He doesn't enjoy spending time with the others anywhere near as much as Scott.... Maybe he should choose Scott at the end. 

The confessionals were horrible and Stiles could only credit his meds for getting through it at all. Deaton had picked and picked and picked and the crew had all but held him down to stop him from leaving. Did he suspect about Erica? Did he suspect about Boyd? Why did he hate Scott? Well, he must hate him to have broken his heart like that. Why doesn't he like Peter as much as the others, to have left him behind? Does he see Chris as superficial now? If he could choose Derek to go on an overnight date, would they have sex? Doesn't Laura come across as cold and clinical? What is about Scott that Stiles doesn't like so he'd reject him like that? What does he think Erica's punishment should be for this betrayal? 

Stiles had sat there and said no, no, no. They must have gotten some amazing soundbites after prodding him for several hours, Stiles getting more tired and flustered until all of his filters and barriers were down. 

When it was over Deaton had merely sat back and smiled and thanked Stiles for his time and thoughts. 

Stiles comes away from the confessional, as he always does, off kilter. Being rejected by Scott in the hallway afterwards made him want to run after him and beg for forgiveness. He can never remember what he's said afterwards and it makes watching what they splice together for the episode seem as if he's experiencing it all for the first time. 

There's a free day in between confessionals and filming the selection ceremony. Stiles uses it to relax and sleep. One of the contestants, he can't remember which one, had said the off-days were torture in the house because nothing happened. No TV, only books that you've brought with you, and you're only allowed one personal item. There's the pool and sun-bathing and cooking in the kitchen but other than that you talk to the other contestants as the producers urge you to discuss Stiles and drama and dream weddings. Stiles is happier to be on his own. He travels with Braeden and Jackson into the nearby town to send and receive some stuff from the post office after lunch but other than that he rests. 

Stiles is a mess of nerves the next day waiting for Lydia to get back to him. He hasn't seen her since he'd promised her something in exchange for keeping Erica and Boyd hush-hush. 

He doesn't see her during the pre-ceremony group date. They're playing crazy golf. He's too anxious to concentrate on anything, but without the meds he'd probably be having a panic attack. Peter tries to flirtily rib him about being the only contestant not on any date that week. Laura asks him a few questions about how he's doing. Chris seems nervous which is sweet, staring at his beer and twirling it in his hands, but it means he can't come up with much to say and neither can Stiles. Stiles perks up when Derek makes an effort to have a conversation with him, simply because it's the first time it's ever happened. Not a lot of crazy gold gets played. 

Erica isn't at the group date. 

Stiles seeks Scott out at the windmill. Scott still won't look at him. 

“I'm so sorry,” Stiles whispers. “Please come and talk to me.” 

Scott agrees, which Stiles wasn't expecting because he himself wouldn't have, but it proves what a great guy Scott it. They wander over to the wooden loveseat nearby. 

“So what? This is where you explain why you're sending me home tonight?” Scott asks and his voice lacks all edge, tears ready to spring from his eyes. 

“No, no, Scott, I'm not sending you home tonight!” Stiles says. 

“What do you mean? You said-?”

“Scott, Scotty, Scott- listen. I'm not sending you home tonight.”

Scott's face lights up. “You're going to give me another chance?”

Stiles sucks in his lips. “I'm, um- well. Let's just say that I see a future with you more than I see a future with someone else at the house.” Which is technically true. 

Scott is beaming like headlights. “I won't waste this opportunity, Stiles.” Scott throws his arms around his shoulders. “I promise, I won't make you regret this.” He presses a cheek to Stiles' cheek before standing, blushing hotly, and walking away with a goofy smile on his face. 

Stiles sits back in his seat and tries to control his expression as a camerman, not Boyd, films him nearby. 

Lydia waits until right before the ceremony to come and grab him. It's the cocktail party back at the house and Stiles is talking with Scott, Derek and Peter. Chris and Laura are chatting nearby. 

“I've spoken with Finstock,” Lydia says. “And he's willing to cut a deal.” 

“What deal?” 

“We'll let you eliminate Erica like any other contestant, but you have to choose someone at the end of the season.”

“Okay,” Stiles shrugs. He can see the logic in that; sometimes there's an Alpha or Omega who chooses no-one. It doesn't help the abysmal success rate or reputation of the show.

“BUT, there's more. You agree to someone, and you and that someone film a Mating special.”

Stiles's eyebrows rise. 

“Six months to a year after the season airs, you and whoever you pick have to have a Mating ceremony, on air.” 

Stiles can't process that. The idea is to choose someone on the show and after filming ends you date them and hopefully end up together. Most of the time, the vast majority of the time, the two people break up. Stiles could see himself picking and breaking up with any of these people long-term. Who would he choose, if he could? He'd choose Laura. She's beautiful, smart, attractive, they get along. She could get him a job. She has shampoo-commerical hair. She's everything Stiles would want in an Alpha. Realistically... Peter would say yes. Peter would love the opportunity to get fake Mated and then they could break up later on, have the Mating nullified, claim it was simply for TV if they had to. 

Stiles is chewing furiously on his bottom lip when Lydia draws his attention back to her. 

“I need a verbal agreement, Stiles, and then we can sort out paperwork later, iron out the details, you can have your own lawyer look over everything.”

“If I agree to pick someone and have a Mating ceremony on TV... you won't tell anyone about Erica or Boyd.” 

Lydia shakes her head. “Agreed.” 

“And... you won't fire Boyd,” Stiles adds. 

Lydia frowns at him. “No, we need to fire him. HR-”

“He didn't do anything! Did you find anything in the surveillance footage?” 

“Not yet...”

“So you don't fire Boyd, and I say yes.” 

Lydia breathes in sharply. “I'd have to check with Bobby...”

“Well maybe you shouldn't have waited until the last minute to give me your offer,” Stiles says. He instantly regrets it as Lydia glares at him. Don't bite the hand that feeds, he reminds himself. 

Lydia gives a small, tight nod. “I'll call Bobby now.”

“ALSO, also... you don't air the footage of me and Scott in the vineyard the other day, where I told him.... stuff.” 

“Braeden's cellphone footage?” 

“Exactly. And no audio either!” 

Lydia shakes her head and scoffs. “You're asking a lot here.”

“You all are asking a lot! You want me to get Mated on tv!” 

“So if we agree, you say yes?” 

Stiles chews on his lip again. He nods. 

“Say it out loud, for the mic.”

“Uh-huh. Yes. If those terms are met- Erica, Boyd, Scott, then yes.” Stiles looks down at the precipice before him and jumps. “Yes, I'll get Mated on tv.” 

Stiles goes back to the cocktail party, sweat cooling underneath his three-piece suit. He's obviously distracted so the others are happy to continue talking while he sits there, fidgeting, eyes glazed. In the episode it's spun to imply he's thinking about who he's going to send home and paying a lot of attention to this super-serious decision. 

Stiles grabs Lydia as the contestants are sent through to the Selection Ceremony hall. “What did Finstock say?”

“He said yes. But he wants something in writing ASAP. Also, he says that if you don't play ball after we let you send Erica home like nothing's wrong then he'll have the story leaked to the press. Okay?”

Stiles swallows do drily it hurts. “Okay.” 

He walks into the Hall being filmed as per normal. Erica is there and he smiles at her. Erica smiles back weakly. She looks like she's at her own execution, sickly and grey. 

As prompted Stiles calls out a welcome to Erica, explaining for the benefit of the other contestants and the viewers that she missed the group date and cocktail party because she's been ill. Laura frowns, clearly knowing something more is up. 

Stiles does his speech about the roses – he only has four, Derek standing on his left already has one, one person's going home – and begins. 

“Peter,” he calls. Peter comes forward with a peck on the lips, making Stiles' eyes shoot open. 

“I knew I didn't get a date because you already like me so much,” he murmurs. He finishes it off with a slow, tight hug. 

Chris coughs pointedly from behind him and Peter goes to stand with Derek. 

Stiles takes a second. Instead of choosing the person he wants to choose he calls out, “Scott.” 

Scott comes forward, eyes shining like Stiles just invented Christmas.

“Thank you,” Scott murmurs sincerely with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. 

“Laura,” Stiles calls. She comes forward with a short hug. 

Erica and Chris look back at him. Chris looks nervous again. Erica is staring at the floor. 

“Chris,” Stiles calls. He gets a long, long hug from Chris which Stiles is pretty sure is aimed at Peter but he accepts gladly. Chris is so snuggly. He'd be an amazing cuddle partner. Stiles thinks about it then voices that opinion out loud. Chris laughs then kisses him, a short peck on the corner of Stiles' mouth. 

Erica steps forward. 

“I'm sorry Erica, it just hasn't worked out for us. But I'm sure, somewhere out there is the person you're meant to be with.”

Erica looks shocked. “Where's all the-” she looks around, “the footage-”

“Sh, sh!” Stiles steps forward to hug her. “I used my influence,” he whispers in her hair. Louder, still hugging, he says, “You're an amazing girl. I wish you all the luck in the world.” 

When Stiles draws back Erica looks overcome. She blinks and twin tear tracks wind down her cheeks. “Thank you, Stiles. Thank you. You're a great guy. Whoever ends up with you will be so lucky.” She draws in a shaky breath. “A great guy. I wouldn't have minded, at all, if circumstances had been different, if we'd ended up together.” 

Stiles smiles. “Me neither.” 

“See you around Batman,” she says with a wave. 

“Bye, Catwoman.” 

The double doors close after her as she walks out to do a last confessional on the grounds. 

Stiles turns and looks at his remaining five: Chris, Derek, Laura, Peter and Scott. He's going to marry one of them on TV. He forces a smile. What is his Dad going to think? He accepts the champagne handed specifically to him by a PA as the contestants take one from the tray. “Cheers!” he calls as he's told to by Jackson. That's the shot the episode ends on. 

Once the director calls cut Stiles has to sit down. Everyone crowds around him but they're shooed away by Lydia and the contestants are ordered back to their rooms. The nurse appears shortly. 

 

~~~

 

The next morning is more confessionals. Stiles feels like he spends 50% of his time talking to Deaton. He still has to decide who he wants for the two-on-one and the group date. The two-on-ones are different now; with so few contestants left, he gives one a rose but the other person doesn't go home. They're just left with the chance of having to go home. 

“So... the two dates,” Lydia says. “What we have set-up for the group date is something Chris would really be suited for. So we've already arranged for him to come on the group date.”

“What's the two-on-one?” Stiles asks. 

“Something really romantic, but a little bit of adrenaline to go with it.” 

“That's not a helpful hint,” Stiles says. It's awkward between the two of them now. “Well, what's the group date?”

“The group date is designed to help you assess who would be a good lifelong Mate.” 

“Okay...” Stiles thinks. Scott is going home this week, and he'll have to warn him in advance, even if it leads to another meltdown. He can't let Scott know he's going home by not giving him a rose up on the chopping block, that's destroy the guy. 

“Um. Scott, I think, on the two-on-one.”

“You know what I think would be fun?” Lydia says playfully, “And this isn't production, this is me. Take two Hales on a two-on-one. They're more than 50% of the remaining contestants. I think it'd be a great opportunity to see what they're like around their own family. It'd be really revealing.” 

“Huh. That is actually a good idea.” 

Lydia shrugs modestly. 

“So Peter and Laura? Or Laura and Derek?” Stiles muses out loud. 

“I think, and this is production talking by the way, that it'd be interesting to see Laura in the group-date environment, see how she handles it.”

“Why don't you just tell me who to pick?” Stiles sighs. 

“Well based on the very useful, awesome hints I've given you, if Laura's on the group, then Derek and Peter are on the two-on-one. So Laura, Chris and Scott on the group date.”

That's not how Stiles would have done it at all. “Fine,” he says. 

“Excellent,” Lydia smiles. “I'll make it happen.” 

 

~~~

 

That afternoon is Stiles' first interview with a magazine reporter. For two hours beforehand he's prepped by Lydia and Jackson. He's not to say 'reality tv', he's to say 'journey'. He's not to say 'contestants', he's to say 'potential romantic partners'. Chin up, shoulders back, witty, confident, not smug, NOT sarcastic, attentive and sweet, but don't try too hard. Don't move your hands around. If in doubt, refer to Lydia. 

Stiles gets an extra dose of his anxiety medication at his own request, Deaton lurking around as the interview is conducted to monitor him. 

The interview goes much better than Stiles was expecting. He's used to cameras hanging around by this point. The magazine crew are filming the interview for their subscribers on the website. Stiles had been nervous about what questions were going to be thrown at him but the magazine had sent over a list of questions to be approved by Tying The Knot's PR and Stiles had been given them beforehand along with suggestions on answers. After being grilled by Deaton answering questions by a sweet smiling person asking softballs like 'Do you think you'll find love?' and 'What's been your favourite date?' or 'What would you like our readers to look out for on the show?' is nothing, especially when Stiles knows they're coming. 

There are photos taken of Stiles in different outfits around the house. Leaning over an interior balcony, strolling by the pool, arranging some flower vases. 

It's all very anti-climactic. The producers of TTK have been treating him more like an employee, a cog, (an important one but all the same a cog) in their massive machine. The magazine people treat him like a celebrity, making sure he's comfortable, shifting everything around him, asking nicely for him to say or do something. The worst part was having to change in and out of outfit after outfit to see what would work for both the magazine and TTK PR people and then standing in front of sun-bright sun-hot lights and being photographed then repeating the process. 

“That was nothing,” Stiles announces to Lydia after the magazine people have packed up and gone. 

“Told you,” Lydia says. “By the time we're actually filming the season and you're giving interviews on live tv you'll wonder why you were ever anxious about any of it.”

“Live tv?” Stiles gulps. 

Lydia smiles. “You did so well here I have no doubts about your performance in the future. You've eased right into being on camera. I'm very impressed.” 

Despite all the complicated layers of his relationship with Lydia, Stiles feels a glow of warmth from the praise of his producer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We have our final 5: Chris, Derek, Laura, Peter and Scott. Who guessed right about who might make it to the final 3? Unless of course there's some sort of PLOT TWIST. But how likely is that, really? Leave all your comments down below, they're giving me life.


	14. Day 21 & 23 - Double Date & Group Date Episode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Relatively short chapter that took forever to write. As unbetaed as ever.

Stiles leant back against his Dad's couch, John sitting nearby. The new episode of Tying The Knot was on that night. Stiles had been forbidden from being seen in public with his choice of the season and so amongst the publicity tour Stiles had taken some time off to visit his Dad. 

“So where are we up to?” John asked, waving the bowl of popcorn at Stiles. 

Stiles took some popcorn. “Last week I sent Erica home.”

“Cause of Boyd, right, I remember. God I wish they'd included that in the episode,” John said. “It sounds amazing. And I don't want to sound mean, Scott is a good guy and I understand why you like him so much, but I wanted to see what happened in the vineyard.”

“It was horrible, Dad. It would have destroyed Scott to have aired that.”

John nods and finishes the movement with a head tilt. “Still. I'm just saying, I would have liked to have seen it, is all. Get a better picture of everything that happened.” 

Stiles rolled his eyes as the show started, the theme tune playing. 

“Last time on Tying The Knot,” came a genderless voice and a quick recap played. “Stiles Stilinski, America's boy next door narrowed down the suitors for his heart.” There's a shot of Stiles and Erica flirting, then another one of them flirting, and then the goodbye hug. “With so few contestants left, who will our Omega choose to Tie The Knot with?” Flashes of Scott, Derek, Peter, Chris and Laura came up, by themselves and then another shot with Stiles. “This week, on Tying The Knot...” 

The show opens with Stiles addressing the remaining contestants in the lounge. Looking back Stiles can't remember how he was feeling. It seems like he's watching a movie about someone else's life. These feel like recovering memories from amnesia. Oh yes, he did wear that and he did go there and he did say that, now that the show mentions it. 

“My choice for the two-on-one date,” says Stiles over a shot of each of the contestant's hopeful faces... and it fades to black. An advert for shaving cream starts playing. 

John turns to Stiles. “Who did you pick?” he demands. 

“Wait, like, five minutes and you'll find out. Seriously.” 

“Tell me now.”

“Dad, you know who I picked at the end! You were THERE at the final selection ceremony! It doesn't matter who I went on the two-on-one with weeks and weeks ago.” 

John huffs, angrily eating popcorn. 

The advert fades out and the last scene is played again.

“My choice for the two-on-one date,” says Stiles, and there's a ridiculously long pause despite the previous pause of the advert break, “ is Peter.” Television Stiles sighs and looks down, dramatically being zoomed in on. Stiles half expects another ad break. “And Derek.” 

John gasps. “The nephew and uncle!? No!” 

Stiles shrugs. “It was Lydia's idea.” 

John wriggles deeper into his chair. “Where did you go on the date?” 

“Watch!” 

The three of them are in the limo now. Peter wearing a grey jacket, Derek a blue jacket and Stiles a beige one. Wardrobe had very conveniently colour-coded them. The tension in the limo is coming across loud and clear across the screen. Peter had sat next to Stiles on one side and Derek had waited a beat and then copied him. It was almost comical; all this space and they're cramped in together. 

Peter fills Stiles' champagne glass (which Stiles remembers had immediately been swapped out for an identical chute of ginger beet by Lydia sitting unseen next to the cameraman. Had it been Boyd?). Peter snuggles in closer, purring, “Enjoying the taste, darling?” 

Stiles' cheeks pink up on screen, once again zoomed in to draw attention. Then Derek's face, glaring at his uncle. Derek brushes Stiles' hair back from his face. A shot of Peter glaring at Derek and then there's Stiles' knee, Peter's hand landing on it and squeezing gently a second later. Then Stiles shyly sipping his '''champagne''', blush obvious. 

“Umm...” says John where he's sitting near Stiles. Stiles refuses to look at him. If he doesn't make eye contact with his Dad it isn't really happening. 

It looked compelling on the show, but Stiles vaguely remembers feeling claustrophobic and too warm in his jacket he wasn't allowed to remove because it was part of the 'outfit'. 

“It's getting a little warm in here,” screen Stiles said, tugging at his shirt collar. He'd meant it literally. 

“Don't crowd the Omega,” Peter is hissing, eyebrows dramatically high. “He'll over-heat.” 

“Don't call him the Omega,” Derek hissed back. 

Stiles has to applaud the editors for how convincingly they'd implied the next scene would be Stiles being fought over in an incestuous threesome. Stiles eats more popcorn, looking at nothing but the popcorn. 

It turns out they're going hot air ballooning. There's the requisite shots of Peter and Derek going “Oh, wow, hot air ballooning!” which Stiles randomly laughs about, remembering Derek having to do take after take because he couldn't mimic enough enthusiasm on cue. 

They're instantly high up in the air, looking down and exclaiming. The basket had been large enough for the three of them plus the cameraman. The camera operator had had an ear piece to relay directives, such as “Steady Stiles”, “Comfort Stiles”, “Stiles pretend you're cold so someone can give you a jacket”. Stiles was proud to see his mini-freak out about heights had come across convincing, ending up huddled in Derek's arms. 

Throughout there's small scenes from the confessionals they'd shot later that day. Stiles leans forward to listen to what Derek and Peter had to say. 

“Watching Stiles with Derek just hammers home for me how little life experience the two of them have together and I think Stiles would really benefit from having a very... experienced person in his life,” Peter smirks. “Stiles and I have a very raw chemistry that I don't think my nephew is capable of.” 

It cuts to Derek. “Peter's a dick,” confessional Derek says. Stiles and John both bark out a laugh.

Stiles is being hand-fed a strawberry coated in chocolate. At the time it was odd and funny and awkward. They've edited it so Peter sliding it between Stiles' lips looks pornographic, Stiles moaning slightly. He'd moaned because the strawberry was frozen like an icicle and he couldn't bite though it but that context has been lost in the editing suite. 

There's voice-over of Stiles talking about how romantic it all was as there's a shot of Stiles looking over the edge of the basket and then Peter comes up behind him, encircling Stiles and gripping the basket in front of him. “To keep you safe,” Peter leans in to murmur. 

“Do you think this date gave you a clearer preference out of the Hale men?” Deaton is asking now, pen touched thoughtfully to his mouth. 

TV Stiles suck in his lips before pouting them back out, eyes roving the middle distance. “Not really. I suppose...” Stiles sighs. “I suppose it shows me Peter is really willing to put himself out there for me while Derek sort of... shied away.” 

There's a scene of Peter wrapped around Stiles like they're about to re-enact Titanic, which if Stiles remembers right Peter actually made a joke about doing. The camera turns to catch Derek with his arms crossed tightly to his body, wind whipping his hair, all by himself, jaw set.

There's platitudes from both Derek and Peter about the date and then it's an ad. 

“I'm going to the bathroom,” John says, pushing himself out of his seat and jogging off. “Tell me if it starts again,” he calls out from down the hall. 

“This is the hardest choice I've had to make so far in this competition,” TV Stiles says honestly when the show comes back on. John falls back into his armchair with a whoomf, freshly opened beer in his hand.

Peter gets the two-on-one date rose, leaving Derek with a chance of elimination. Peter had sealed it with a kiss. You can see how good a kisser Peter is through the screen. The camera angle changes to catch Derek in the background, glowering. Segment over. 

The next part is the group date. Laura, Chris and Scott are told by Stiles they're going on a groupdate. The three act excited except they have to know already through basic deduction. There's a shot of them in limo talking about where they're going: to a local kindergarten to watch a play. 

The play is adorable, although Stiles wonders while watching it as he did watching it for the first time why the parents would agree to this. 

Then afterwards they get to hang out with the kids in the big room they normally spend their days in. One of the more extroverted children had grabbed onto Stiles immediately, physically dragging him from display to display and pointing out which hand-turkey or bubble painting was theirs. 

Stiles get to watch what he didn't notice at the time, cleverly edited for maximum contrast between Chris, Scott and Laura. Scott had been nabbed by a small child the same way Stiles had, Scott eagerly asking questions and exclaiming with excitement over everything the kids said. It was genuine and easy. Then there was Chris, easily building rapport with some less bouncy children. There's a close-up of Chris wincing as he takes a knee to be closer to the little girl in braids telling him about their in-class library and which story she likes best (talking ballerina dogs). Then there's Laura, looking around lost. None of the children approached her. She awkwardly knelt down by a table where several children were huddled, drawing and scribbling, and asked them what they were doing. 

“Colouring-in. Duh!” said a child, rolling their eyes. 

Laura blinked twice and turned to the child to her right. “What are you colouring in?” she asked lightly. 

“I don't know,” said the kid proudly. 

Laura proceeded to kneel there, silently, as the seconds dragged on until she stood up again, smoothing down her skirt and walking over to where Stiles was and nabbing his attention, coming along with the energetic girl on a tour of the class, the girl announcing proudly who usually slept where during nap time. 

“Oh wow,” Stiles said, widening his eyes. “You usually sleep over here!? That's a good spot, I bet.”

“Mh-hm!” noised Laura encouragingly.

The four of them retreated to a local park afterwards. As they were leaving the children were getting ready for a nap. Stiles' guide had ran up to them at the door, grabbing Stiles' hand again. “See!” she pointed. “There's my mat and blanket! I do sleep there, just like I said. It wasn't a lie!” 

“I know you were telling the truth,” Stiles had smiled. “You go sleep in your spot.” 

The girl had given one large serious nod and ran off to do just that. Stiles is sad to see that little conversation hadn't made it into the episode but the cameras were already being packed down.

“You're really good with them, huh?” Chris had asked, something strange in his voice. 

Stiles had studied him but been unable to figure it out. “Yeah, I guess. I suppose they recognise a fellow immature spirit.” Instantly Stiles wanted to kick himself. It wasn't a good idea to draw attention to his own youth and therefore the age difference between them. 

“You're not quite as bad as a kindergartner,” Chris had smiled. Stiles had smiled back and there'd been something there. A spark, a connection. Stiles had decided then that Chris was going to get the rose for the group-date. 

At the park there was a picnic set up. 

“Deja vu, hey?” Laura asked, nudging Stiles with an elbow. 

“Huh?”

“Our first date,” Laura said. 

“Oh, right.” How many dates had Stiles been on since then? Laura of course was only dating him so it'd probably be memorable for her. 

At the blanket they'd sat and ate and talked about the play which made for entirely dull viewing. After the meal Stiles and Chris had gone and sat on a park bench a little space away. 

“Would you want kids?” TV Chris asked. 

“Yeah,” Stiles shrugged. “Would you?” 

Chris tilted his head. “Well, I did. And then, you know, I had 'em. I think I might be... past that phase of my life.” He smiles, the creases by his eyes deepening. 

“You wouldn't want... to have a kid with me?” TV Stiles looks heartbreakingly earnest. Couch Stiles hates the vulnerability painted on his face. 

Chris had physically distanced himself, using the table to push himself back at an angle. He didn't meet Stiles' eyes as he said, “I'd have to think about it.” 

Stiles looked at the rose on its platter and stand several feet away. 

Next he spoke with Scott. Scott and Stiles had been joking, chatting. Stiles ignored the glint Scott would get in his eyes sometimes and kept it light. Stiles couldn't give Scott the rose. It signified too much. Stiles looked over at Laura. Yes. Laura was a safe bet. Stiles had realised this would be one of those occasions when at the end of the date the Omega would give a rose to one of the worst performers on the group date, a massive signal to the audience at home that this contestant was favoured. Stiles was at peace with that. 

“I hope my kid ends up being as awesome as those kids today,” Stiles said just to fill the air, scraping at a stain on the wood table with his fingernail. He was expecting one of Scott's puppy-dog replies, agreeing and expanding on the comment. When no comment came Stiles looked up. Scott was staring off over Stiles' shoulder. 

“What's wrong?” Stiles asked. Still no reply. 

Stiles twisted and looked over his own shoulder. A woman was walking towards them, probably Stiles and Scott's own age. She had long wavy brown hair and fair skin... Stiles realised he knew her from somewhere. That question was answered when Chris called out an, “Allison!” and jumped up from the blanket, heading towards her. 

“Allison?” Stiles muttered, frowning. 

“You know her?” Scott asked. 

Stiles turned back to him but Scott's gaze was still fixed over Stiles' shoulder. He looked like he hadn't blinked. “I went to high school with her. That's Chris' daughter.” 

Stiles stood up and went over to them after giving them a minute of privacy, ignoring Lydia's motions to hurry over. 

“Hi Ally,” Stiles smiled. 

The beaming smile on Allison's face dropped and she shouted, “Stiles!? Oh my god! YOU'RE the Omega? No way!” There was a small moment of indecision and then they hugged. 

“How have you been?” Stiles asked. 

“I've been so good! I can't believe it's you!” 

They talked for a little bit and then were producer-guided back to the blanket. Scott met them there. 

There was talk and discussion about how Chris and Stiles knew Allison. 

“Wait,” said Laura, “You went to high school with Chris' daughter?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles said. 

“It's so weird you're dating my Dad,” Allison laughed in her twinkling way. 

“What years were you guys in, or what years did you graduate...” Laura asked. 

“We were in the same year,” they both replied. 

“So...” Laura spoke to Chris, eyes wide, “You're dating someone the same age as your daughter?”

“Well, I was held back a year because we did a lot of travelling,” Allison said. 

“So...” Laura looked between all three of them, pointing with her champagne flute, “You're actually older than Stiles?” 

“Yeah. I guess,” Allison laughed, “I guess my Dad is dating someone younger than his daughter!” She laughed again. 

Stiles smiled uncomfortably and looked to Chris who looked ill. Fuck. 

“It's not that bad,” Stiles started to say but Chris stood up and walked off. Braeden went up to him but based on his tone Chris had nothing nice to say. 

“Oh dear,” Allison said. “What...” 

“It's okay,” Scott hurried to say, “You didn't say anything wrong.” 

“Chris doesn't like the age difference,” Stiles explained. 

“Oh, I didn't realise, I'm sorry,” said Allison, worrying her bottom lip. 

“It's not your fault. I mean, you didn't pick the both of us to date on the show.” 

“I'm sure nothing has ever been your fault,” said Scott. 

Allison looked at Scott properly for the first time, noticed his enthusiasm for her existence and smiled at him, equal parts confused and flattered. 

Watching at home Stiles sighed. He expected a save the date to come in the mail any day now. 

“Did you know they were bringing Allison? Who gets the rose?” John asked.

“Laura got the rose,” Stiles said, morose. 

“Don't tell me,” yelled John, “I want to watch the end!” 

After an extensive and unnecessary ad-break the rose did indeed go to Laura. She looked very pretty accepting it and kissing Stiles on the cheek. Couch Stiles watched TV Stiles blush. Memory after memory crashed over him from the rest of filming. 

“Well that's weird,” John was saying, checking with the clock on the wall. “Usually these episode go longer than that.” The group-date with all the contestants, cocktail party and selection ceremony would happen in an episode later that week. 

But then there was fast-paced music from the television, drawing them both back. Stiles, Laura, Scott and Chris were in the limo. Stiles had thought about what Boyd had said about the limo on the way back and he deliberately kept things easy breezy. But as they arrived back at the mansion, there were five doors sat in a half-circle facing away from the house so when the limo pulled up they were looking straight at them. 

TV Stiles emerged from the limo, confusion and surprise all over his face. 

Deaton was there. “Omega Stiles,” Deaton said, mic'ed up, “Here, right now, you are going to choose three new contestants.” He gestured to the doors which had a large wardrobe type box attached to the back of them, large enough to easily hold a person. “To give you more opportunity to meet a Mate on this journey, and to test the sincerity of the bonds you have with the existing contestants who have been here since day One, three new contestants are going to enter the mansion, not to mention, the competition for your heart. When I say 'new', some are people you've never met before. Some... are people who weren't given a rose at that very first selection ceremony. It's up to you to pick which three of these five doors are the ones your additional suitors are behind.” 

There was fast-tempo music and slam cuts between the doors, Stiles' face, the other three's faces, and Deaton's neutrally smug smile. Stiles' bewildered face was zoomed in on and then the screen went black for a second before the genderless voice from the opening came: “Next time... on Tying The Knot...” 

TV Stiles' opens a door but the camera can't see inside. Laura sits inside the mansion, fidgeting nervously while holding her rose from the date. Peter has a snarl on his face while standing in the kitchen. There's a voice-over of an unfamiliar male voice, “You don't know what you're talking about.” Stiles kisses someone, but their face has a vine of roses pasted over it to keep their identity secret. 

The episode ends. 

John sits with his mouth open before drawing in a breath. He turns to Stiles. “What!? Now you have to tell me what happens!” 

“Dad,” Stiles says back, “You already know who wins! You yelled at me for telling you Laura won the group-date rose. I'm not telling you anything else.” Stiles stands and walks to the kitchen. 

“Well that was just because I didn't want anything spoiled for me. But you could still give me some hints, huh?” 

Stiles pops his head back into the room, “No,” and pops back out. 

“I know you're 25, but I can still ground you,” John calls out after him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are life.


	15. Day 23 to 26 - The Intruders

Stiles stared at the five coffin-sized boxes sat in a semi-circle on the driveway. He turned to Deaton. “You what?” 

“There are five boxes,” Deaton said slowly like a nursery school teacher, “You just need to open the door to three of them. And behind them are your three new contestants.”

“What?” Stiles whirled around to look at Laura, Scott and Chris, all of whom looked equally shocked. He turned back to Deaton. “But – I'm down to the final five. You've never added extra contestants this late in the season before.” 

“We had some issues getting a certain someone's contract signed. Production thought it was worth delaying the introduction of the intruders to get this particular someone on board.” 

“So which one is it?” Stiles sighed. “Which one am I supposed to pick?” 

Deaton smirked slightly. “We don't tell you what to do, Stiles. You choose your own path.” 

“Lydia would just tell me who to choose you know,” Stiles said. 

Deaton frowned. “That's not the premise of the show.”

“It's a show dude, it's not a big deal. Which one do you want me to pick? Just tell me. My meds are making me sleepy.” 

Deaton shook his head. “Just choose whichever ones feel right.”

“What happens if I pick wrong?” 

Deaton smirked again. “That won't happen.” 

“You know subconsciously manipulating me to make a choice you want isn't more respectful than just straight up giving me an order, right?” 

Deaton's facial expression was like a calm lake, perfectly smooth. “I disagree. Go on. The crew wants to start packing up and head home.” 

Stiles sighed and looked back at the three people by the limo before striding forward. Laura was shivering, her outfit for a summery afternoon not serving her well as the wind picked up. 

Stiles knocked at the first door to no response. Wondering if anyone was in there Stiles twisted the handle and pulled the door back to reveal a woman who at first glance reminded him of Laura. She had milky skin, was about his height, and sleek black hair. 

The woman stepped out of the box like a life-sized Barbie and gently shook Stiles' hand. 

“Jennifer Blake,” she said. “I'm perfectly charmed to meet you.” 

Stiles nodded slowly. “Nice to meet you too. I'm Stiles Stilinski.”

“Oh yes, I know. Thank you so much for choosing me,” she beamed. She was dressed conservatively with a green cardigan with a purple beetle broach pinned to it. Her dark red lipstick was a contrast. Like a sexy librarian. 

Stiles walked straight to the next box. Coffin number two. Stiles knocked again before swinging the door open. A man stood there. Once again, pale skin and sleek dark hair. The light caught on his glasses, making the lenses flash like an anime villlain's. 

The man stepped out briskly, bumping into Stiles before he could take a step back. “Adrian Harris.” The man said. He didn't offer his hand and neither did Stiles. 

“Right,” Stiles said. “I'm Stiles.” 

Adrian frowned. “I know.” 

Feeling cowed, Stiles made his way to the third and middle box. Forgoing knocking, inside was a woman about his own age. Cool dark brown eyes met his. They shook hands and held them as they introduced themselves. 

“Stiles Stilinski.” 

“Malia Tate.” Her eyes glinted. “Also known as Malia Hale.” 

Stiles let his hand drop back to his side. He looked over in the rough direction of Deaton. “Another one!?” 

“Cut!” the director called. 

“Let's do that again, if you please, Stiles,” Lydia asked. “Nice and charming.” 

“Where do they keep finding you guys?” Stiles asked Malia. 

“Is my Dad here?” 

“Who?”

“Peter.”

Stile's eyes widened. “Peter's your DAD – Peter's a father -”

“Okay rolling,” the director called out. 

“Are you shitting me?” asked Stiles. 

“Cut,” called the director. 

“He never mentioned a daughter,” Stiles said. 

“You better be fucking rolling,” Lydia snarled at the cameraman. 

“He didn't raise me. He didn't know about me for a long while.” She narrowed her eyes gleefully. “I don't think he'll be expecting me.” 

Stiles laughed beside himself. “Well, this is a day for unexpected daughters,” he thought out loud. 

 

~~~

 

“I got you some more female Alphas. It's like chicken's teeth, finding female Alphas in the first place, let alone ones that want to come on reality tv.” Lydia delicately picked up a cashew from Stiles' dinner platter and bit it neatly in half. “Your welcome, by the way.”

Stiles' first instinct was to talk about how he'd liked Malia, she was like a cooler older Cora, and so it was confusing because of the whole her-dad-sucked-his-dick thing, but he knew if Lydia found out about that it was just a matter of time before it was brought up on-camera. “Thanks. What can you tell me about them?” 

Lydia sighed, flinging tresses over her shoulder with a head toss. “Malia's about your age. Harris is a for-tv contestant, by the way, if you hadn't noticed. I don't know a lot about Jennifer. Finstock brought her on. I think she might have, you know, couch-surfed her way here.”

Stiles raised a questioning eyebrow. 

“Taken the scenic route. You know, I think she detoured by Finstock's office after-hours.” 

Stiles blinked at her. 

Lydia huffed. “I think she and Finstock are sleeping together.” 

“What?” Stiles laughed. “No way. She's a million miles out of his league.” Stiles thought of her cardigan and broach. “She doesn't seem like that sort of person.” 

“You met her for ten minutes,” Lydia reminded him. “You'll get to see her again tomorrow afternoon. We're having a cocktail party for all the contestants right now. They'll get to be catty and jealous and then we'll throw you into the mix tomorrow. You'll have a group date with just the intruders, and then a day off, and then we're filming a cocktail party and selection ceremony. You get to get rid of two people but this'll be the last time.” 

 

~~~

 

Stiles didn't get to see any of the contestants before the group intruder date. He was driven straight to the date. Stiles wondered how they were reacting to the intruders but couldn't really focus because Boyd was back. 

Boyd had gone in for a handshake while Stiles had gone in for a hug. That awkwardness done with, Boyd had launched into a sincere thanks. 

“I probably wouldn't still have my job if not for you.”

“They couldn't have fired you over nothing. You were being responsible.” 

“I've had lots of contestants hit on me before for all sorts of things; more screen-time, more privileges, drugs. Erica was the first person to ever make me feel like losing my job might be worth it. I guess it's because she only wanted me, as it turns out.”

“That's sweet. You're a really lucky guy,” Stiles said sincerely. “I'm kind of jealous,” Stiles inserted into the stretching silence, trying to make it into a joke. “That's one of my final three you've got for yourself now.” 

“Who are your other final three?” Boyd asked. 

“Danny,” Stiles said, surprising himself. “But I guess he wanted someone else more than me as well.” 

Boyd kicked a pebble away from them. “Who's the last?” 

“Laura.” Stiles looked at the long strip of road that the contestants and their producers would be arriving down any minute now. “I don't know home reciprocal that is though.” 

“Don't think like that.” 

“I get to send two people home this week, right? But everyone will be expecting me to send home two of the intruders, yeah?” 

Boyd breathed in deeply, thick chest expanding. “That's what normally happens.” 

“So on this date it's just about which of three I want to keep.” Stiles looked at the weeds swaying on the opposite side of the road, back and forth. Scott. Peter. Derek. Laura. Chris. 

And now Jennifer, Adrian and Malia. Christ. His final seven and four of them were Hales. Unbelievable.

“I need to cull some Hales,” Stiles thought out loud. Boyd puffed out a breath for a laugh as the limo with the intruders came into view. 

The date was a picnic by a lake, everyone precariously following the rotting wooden steps down a steep hill to reach it. 

Stiles had thought Adrian wasn't interested in him but Stiles, after returning from behind a large towel held up by Lydia and a PA, had been wearing a green and pink striped shirt, beige shorts and flip-flops and Adrian hadn't been able to sit close enough to him. 

“I'm taking time off to travel at the moment,” Malia said, mouth half-full of grapes. “Which means I'm unemployed.” 

“I work in PR,” Jennifer said. That made Stiles narrow his eyes; it made what Lydia had said all the more likely. Finstock was likely to meet a lot of people in PR. 

“I teach Math,” Adrian said, arm leaning against Stiles', facing Stiles so his coffee breath washed thick over Stiles' nose. 

“A Maths teacher, huh?” Malia said. “You must get all the Omegas.” 

Adrian recoiled like a snake before thrusting his neck forward in her direction. “I do fine.” 

“Okay,” Malia said around a mouthful of cheese, rolling her eyes. 

Stiles was already in love. 

“You can call me Mr Harris,” Adrian spit-whispered, leaning in real close to Stiles's physical space again. 

Stiles' couldn't help the 'urghhh' that immediately escaped him. 

After the picnic they were forced onto a boat. As soon as they were all seated, several crew members physically holding the boat against the grass edge to keep it steady, they were ordered back out. 

As Stiles clambered back out, Omegas first, Adrian said, “Be careful of your little toesies in those little flip-flops. Don't won't to lose a little piggy.”

Stiles looked around for Lydia for help but she was already looking back, face equally astonished. 

In the mock-rowboat sat up by the edge of the water that made it easier to film, Stiles was next to Jennifer under a parasol she was holding while Adrian and Malia sat opposite, pretending to row occasionally. 

“What do you think of my family?” Malia asked. “Bunch of weirdos, right?” 

Stiles chuckles. “I really like your cousins. Laura's lovely. Derek has been hard to get to know. Peter... Peter's, well, he's charismatic.” 

Malia cakled. “I'm no exception to the rule. Odd that they're all still here, apart from Cora of course.” 

“I know! I'm afraid it's going to make me look like I'm desperate to Mate into your family or something. At this rate my final three will all be Hales. Doesn't matter which one, as long as it's your bloodline.” 

“How did they end up still here? You seem like a smart guy. I'd have thought Peter would have gone home week one.”

Stiles blew some fringe out of his face. His attention was caught by the fixated look on Adrian's face. Stiles looked down and realised he was staring at his feet. Stiles scrunched his toes self-consciously but he had nowhere to hide them. 

“Umm.. what was the question?” 

“I think Malia was asking what happened to all of the other contestants,” Jennifer said. 

“Oh. Uh... Well, there were these twins I had nothing in common with. One of them, it turned out, was sleeping with another contestant- Danny, so he's gone as well. There was a girl, Erica, she left because she'd developed feelings for someone else. Isaac, he was a sweet kid who couldn't handle the situation.” Stiles scrunched his eyes. “Cora, because we just didn't connect like that. Duke, who turned out to be a Dynamist. I couldn't handle his views.” 

“That's terrible,” Malia said. “How did someone like that end up on the show in the first place?” 

Stiles cut a glare to his right where several production crew including Lydia were standing two feet away. “Guess he slipped through.” 

After another hour of talk and fake-rowing they were allowed out and put in the two limos to head home. 

“What do we think of the intruders?” Lydia asked. 

“I like Jennifer. And I like Malia. I really like Malia.” 

“Adrian?”

“Oh, he's going home.” 

 

~~~

 

The next day was a rest day. Stiles was offered to go into town with Lydia and Jackson but he desperately wanted to catch up on sleep and couldn't handle Jackson's smug face that early in the morning. He mostly slept and watched tv and slept. 

The next day was the cocktail part followed by the selection ceremony. There was the customary group date for everyone beforehand. They went to a early screening of a new movie in town. Everyone dressed to the 9s like they were attending the Oscars. Stiles' suit was dark blue with shimmery silver woven through it, like the night sky. 

It was odd to be stood outside a limo, welcoming the Alphas and Derek inside the cinema like he owned it or something, some residents of the town stood outside the barricade glaring or staring at the interruption occurring at ten in the morning that was preventing them from using the sidewalk. 

The movie was dreadful which went partway to explaining why it needed to buy this sort of PR so badly. The contestants played musical chairs with the seats next to Stiles. If someone went to the bathroom or went to get more snacks which were given in small amounts and deliberately held out of reach, someone would shoot into the newly vacant seat next to Stiles and hold his hand or murmur comments to him about the movie like their life depended on it. 

When Stiles came back from a bathroom break, not bothering to time it, the entire movie was like an extended bathroom break scene featuring Jack Black and Anne Hathaway playing a space detective duo, he picked up a beanbag and plopped down next to Scott where he was camping out right in front of the screen. Scott beamed at him and Stiles tried to ignore how Adrian had been the first to slither into the beanbag on his other side. 

At the cocktail party, everyone still wearing their over the top outfits from earlier, Stiles sat himself by the make-your-own taco stand from catering and refused to leave even as Lydia pleaded with him. 

After eating his fill Stiles was willing to stand just in time to be tackled in a hug by Allison. 

“Ally!” 

“Stiles! It's so good to see you again.” Her dress was the palest pink and she wore long cords of metallic beads down to her stomach. “You look so good!” 

“Well I did just eat five tacos. This is the best my life has ever been.” 

Allison laughed. “I had no idea it was going to be this sort of cocktail party! I feel so under-dressed.” Her dress ended at her knees. Nearby Laura's sleek glittering sheath of a dress reached the floor even as a slit started at her hip. Next to her, elbows linked, Malia's dress descended to the floor in layer and layer of peach flutter. When he'd last seen her. Jennifer's dress had been gold and started about a milimetre above her nipples, a white fur shawl over her shoulders. 

“It doesn't matter. You have the most beautiful smile here by a mile.” 

“You!” Allison batted him on the shoulder playfully. She looked around casually. “Is everyone here?” 

“Have you seen your dad already?” 

“Oh, yeah, we've already had a chat.”

“So you're looking for Scott.” 

Allison blushed faintly. “I don't know what you're talking about.” 

“You'd never make it as an actress, you're a terrible liar. Let's go find him.” 

Scott appeared as soon as they stepped onto the main floor. 

“Hi. I'm Scott. Again. We met. Earlier – today. Well not today. A different day. Yesterday. No. The day before that. Was it? I think it was-” 

Stiles stood on Scott's foot. “Why don't we dance?” He looked around for a PA. “We need some dancing music!” he announced loudly. Stiles pulled Allison's hand to Scott's shoulder. “And I'll go find my own partner.” 

Stiles turned as violin strings started to pierce the air and there she was; Malia. 

“I was hoping we could talk?” she asked. 

“Why don't we talk while moving side to side to this music? I've just invented this new thing, I call it dancing.” 

“I bet it's going to catch on it a big way.” 

“For sure.”

“Better copyright it now, as soon as possible.” 

“I think I'll finish dancing with you first.” 

Despite what they'd said, they were silent as the danced to the music, looking at each other. 

“I was wondering if I might cut in,” Adrian said as the first dance ended. 

Stiles pulled Malia closer. “No.” 

“Hi,” Derek said halfway through the next song. He looked like he's just eaten a live frog and it was trying to launch its way back out of him through any convenient orifice which probably meant he wanted to talk. “Do you mind if I have the next dance?”

“You can have him now, cuz. I'll be back in a little while to reclaim him.” 

Derek took Stiles by the waist and hand and Stiles felt a little flutter as he looked up into ice blue eyes. 

“I've been wanting to talk to you ever since Peter won the rose on our date. I wanted to apologise for whatever it is I did that meant I didn't receive the rose. I'd have liked to. I'll try... harder.... to get your attention next time.” 

The song was coming to an end. 

Stiles felt like he was somewhere else. This was the closest he'd felt to being in a fairytale. First Malia and dancing, and then Derek. Scott and Allison looking at each other like that in the background. The music. The roses in the ceiling. Stiles felt drunk even though he hadn't had anything. 

“I... I'd like that,” Stiles settled on. “I want you to fight for me. I want you to win.” 

Derek leant close, their foreheads nudging. “You're special,” Derek whispered. 

Stiles tilted his head closer, nose tips brushing slightly. They were breathing in each other's breath. 

“My turn?” Peter asked aggressively, turning both of their attention to him. 

Despite what he'd just said Derek stepped back immediately, nodding to Peter and walking away. Stiles looked after him with disappointment. 

“Come with me,” Peter hissed, dragging Stiles into the house and up the stairs. The film crew were hot on their heels a second later. Peter dragged Stiles through the house, through door to door, reaching around them to turn their mic packs off, until they spilled into an en suite bathroom. 

Peter locked the door, shoved Stiles into the shower and swished the opaque curtain closed. 

“What's going on!?” Stiles cried out. 

“Sh!” Peter glared in the direction of the door but they couldn't hear anything. “Now what exactly do you think you're doing with my daughter?” 

“What-huh-dancing!” 

“Making googly eyes at each other. You've know each other five minutes.” 

“Unlike you and me?” Stiles hissed back. 

“Exactly.” 

“Jealous?” 

Peter stepped forward, closing the last gap between them. “No,” he snarled. “Why would I be jealous? You don't know her like me. She doesn't know you like I do.” 

Stile scoffed. “How do you know me?” 

“I know what your dick tastes like,” Peter muttered. “I know how your thighs shake when you're about to cum, and all the ridiculous slutty little porny sounds you make when you tip over the edge. And I don't think I need to share that with anyone else, especially her.” 

“You are jealous. And you should be. I like her more than you.” Stiles whispered against Peter's mouth. They hadn't turned the light on and it was dim and cool in the shadow of the curtain. 

Peter growled and Stiles fancied he could feel it in his chest where it pressed against Peter's. “No sharing,” Peter whispered. He palmed the front of Stiles' dress pants, squeezing the hard bulge there. “You're already mine and you're going to stay that way.” 

Stiles gasped as Peter slid to his knees. “What are you doing?” 

“Say stop and I'll stop,” Peter muttered, unzipping Stiles' pants. 

“What are you doing?” Stiles repeated brainlessly. 

“What do you think? Say stop or I won't.” Peter tore his pants and underwear down to mid-thigh so roughly Stiles was afraid he'd have rug burn. Peter lifted his cock with one hand to hold it steady and slid his mouth around the head, sucking Stiles in deeper and deeper until he had to remove his hand to keep going, finishing in one swoop with his nose pressed to Stiles' pubic hair. 

Stiles' eyes rolled back and he garbled nonsense like he was being possessed. Peter kept Stiles' hips pressed roughly back against the wall stopping him from thrusting mindlessly. Stiles sunk his hands into Peter's hair and held on as Peter moved back and forth. Stiles came in just over a minute, shaking and sweating like he's just run a marathon. 

He slid bonelessly down into a heap so he and Peter were once again at eye level. 

“You think about this before you kiss anyone else,” Peter said thickly before gripping Stiles hair and tugging him forwards, slotting their mouths together. Stiles tried to withdraw as he recognised the taste on Peter's tongue as himself but Peter held him securely, kissing Stiles until the taste was gone. 

Stiles lay in a puddle of his own limbs, mouth open and panting as his brain cells tried to regroup. Peter stood shakily, stepping out of the bathroom and closing the door behind him. 

Immediately Stiles heard questions from people lying in wait in the next room. Stiles cringed as he wondered how much the boom microphones would have been able to pick up from out there. He pulled his pants and underwear up his thighs which took way too much effort. 

Stiles took a moment to freak out and clean up at the sink before stepping outside, chin up. 

“Stiles, Stiles, what was that about?” a PA asked him, a camera shoved in his face. 

He didn't answer, elbowing his way out of the room before zooming down the stairs and back into the party. The first thing he sees is Allison standing by herself, contemplating the array of finger good. Stiles sidles up to her and asks, “Save my life? Dance with me?” 

Stiles' takes her wide-eyed surprise as a yes and whisks her onto the dance floor. 

Nearby Peter is sitting by Chris on a loveseat. Their eyes meet and Stiles flushes like a beetroot. 

Peter says loudly enough to be deliberately overheard, “So I hear from my niece that your daughter is older than our Omega.” 

“At least everyone knew I had a daughter,” Chris retorts. “Malia? Is that her name?” 

“Yes, that's right Chris. Malia, my much younger-than-yours daughter.” 

“She's two years younger. It's not that big of an age difference.” 

“Your right. Unlike say... a 23 year old and... how old were you Chris?” 

“Not that much older than you,” Chris says, returning Peter's glare. 

Peter smirks. Allison is blushing in embarrassment from her dad's behaviour. 

Stiles' attention is diverted from the feud by Jackson tapping him on the shoulder. “Can I talk to you?” he asks, “about the bathroom?” 

“Nope,” Stiles says, darting away again. 

He finds Scott by the taco stand, three piled up on his plate, and Stiles is once again caught by how compatible they two of them would have been if he'd found Scott fuckable. 

“Hey buddddddy,” Stiles says. “I need to talk to you.”

“Oh good, I need to talk to you too.” Scott puts the plate of tacos down and they walk to the wooden bench on the lawn. 

“What did you want to talk about?” Stiles asks. 

“You go first,” Scott says, suddenly looking nervous. 

“I didn't really have anything to say, I just wanted to get away from Jackson.” 

Scott nods seriously. “Understandable. Well... it's about what you said before. About not being 100% sure about us. I really thought I liked you, and I do, but it's just... now that I've met some other people I've been able to compare how I feel about you with them and...”

Stiles nods seriously, thankful for Lydia keeping Jackson from confronting him while they shoot this scene. 

“Well I think maybe I wasn't in love with you. I do love you man, but I think I got caught up in this place and all the hype, you know?” 

“I do know,” Stiles says. “This place fucks with your head.”

“So much of what I felt about you I still feel about you,” Scott says. “You are an awesome guy, and you're funny and smart, and I love hanging out with you but...” Scott shakes his head. “I don't think you're my Mate.” 

Stiles is humbled by the tears in Scott's eyes as he says this. Stiles feels relieved that Scott won't be heart-broken when he gets sent home but on the other hand he feels like he's losing his security blanket. 

“I'm going to miss you so much.” Stiles is surprised to find tears clouding his vision and his voice as well. 

“We're always going to be friends,” Scott smiles. “But it's okay. You can send me home.” 

Stiles nods. He wipes his nose with the back of his sleeve. “Okay, man.” 

“I do love you,” Scott says. 

“I love you too.” Stiles smiles. 

 

~~~

 

The selection ceremony doesn't start until Stiles had been yelled at by Lydia and Jackson for several minutes and they've rung out a promise to tell Deaton everything that happened in the bathroom ith Peter tomorrow during confessionals. He'll figure out what to say later and he knows Peter will back up whatever lie he comes up with. 

“There are eight contestants. Five of you have been with me since the beginning. Three of you I have just started on my journey with, “Stiles reads from the cue cards. “Two of you already have roses.” To Stiles' left is Laura and Peter, both clutching their respective roses in front of them. “I have only four roses to give out. Two of you are going home.” On his right is Allison, standing near Chris at his position on the edge of the podium. 

Stiles looks at the faces staring back at him. Derek, Jennifer, Malia, Adrian, Scott and Chris. 

“Chris,” Stiles says, nodding to Allison. 

The older man accepts it with a one-armed hug. 

“Derek.” 

Derek comes forward and takes the rose. As he's about to step away he leans forward and pecks Stiles clumsily on the forehead. Stiles can't help the smile in response. 

“Malia,” Stiles calls. Malia steps forward with a big hug for him. Stiles doesn't look over for Peter's reaction. 

Jennifer, Adrian and Scott look back at him. 

Stiles feels tears in his eyes for the choice he's about to make. He has to clear his throat several times to announce, “This is the last rose.” 

He looks at the three. “Jennifer.” 

Scott beats Jennifer to Stiles, enveloping him in a bear hug. Stiles hugs him back, tears leaking.

“I'm sorry,” Stiles says. What he means is, I'm sorry I couldn't love you more. 

“It's okay,” Scott whispers. Stiles doesn't want to let go but eventually Scott steps back and he had to let his arms fall. Jennifer claims the final rose and Scott turns to stand next to Allison. 

Adrian is stuck standing by himself under the spotlights on the podium, mouth open. “Really!? I thought we had a connection!” 

“Did you?” Stiles asks. He looks to his left. His final six. Laura, Peter, Derek, Malia, Jennifer and Chris. 

Two thirds Hales. 

Fuck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't updated since the first week of March. Wowee. Sorry guys. We're getting close to the end now.


	16. Day 27 - Interviews

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just a snippet of fic in between bigger chapters. Completely un-edited.

“I need to cut some Hales, this is ridiculous,” Stiles says to Lydia who claimed to have come to his granny flat for business but was just helping herself to grapes and cashews as she watched the Maleficent DVD Stiles had had playing for background noise. 

“Uh-huh,” Lydia said, not looking at him.

“So Chris and Jennifer are Top 3, done and done. I just need to figure out which of the other 4 I'm going to keep.” 

“Well, which one do you like best?” Lydia asks, eyes still on Angelina Jolie. 

Stiles breathes out long and low. “I like all of them, just in different ways. Malia I think I would have dated on the outside if I'd have had the chance. Peter is... well he'd be a great choice just because I know he'd do the stupid Mating Ceremony Special I agreed to. I like Laura, she's sort of everything I wanted in an Alpha but I don't know if we actually have that strong of a connection. And Derek...” Stiles stares out the window. There are no clouds in the sky. His window could be a screen or a photo of perfect blue where the glass should be. “Derek isn't comfortable on the show. He has so many barriers I can't really get to know the real him.”

Lydia sighs. “So get rid of Derek. Get rid of Laura. Try to spend as much time with Malia as possible to see if there's a connection that's more substantial than the one you have with Peter. There, done.” Lydia stands up. “You have another interview this afternoon. They're from a TV show, nothing serious. It'll end up being a little five minute promo clip on their show. You just need to be your usual charming self. I'll pick you up for it at two.” 

“Well, what am I doing until then?” Stiles asked. 

“Hanging out here in your luxurious abode.” 

“I'm bored.” 

“Watch Maleficent.” 

“I've seen it about ten times by now.”

“Have a nap. Do a push-up. Have a bath. Take a mental health day.” 

“I feel like I'm in prison.” 

“Don't be ridiculous. Prison has bars on the windows and more inmates.” 

“I want to spend time with the contestants. Please can I go to the house and hang out?” 

“Absolutely not, we don't have cameras set up for that.”

“I want to swim in the pool.”

“I'll see. Maybe we can get the contestants out for the day and you can use the pool. Or Jackson could take you to the local rec centre, if you want.” 

Stiles collapsed on the bed. “God, I can't wait for this to be over. I'm homesick. I miss my Dad. Can I call him?” 

Lydia frowns. “You know the answer to that.” 

Stiles does a lap of his grannyflat. He considers walking over to the house, he knows it's just a short distance, but there's a security guard of some kind standing watching him. The man's turned side-on as if to respect Stiles' privacy but it's obvious the walkie-talkie in his hand is there to let everyone know if Stiles makes a break for it. 

Stiles runs a few laps around the flat to burn off some restless energy. He accepts the mid-morning offer from Jackson to run errands in town. It's just the two of them but Stiles is happy to rid silently with the other man and then stay locked in the car while Jackson whips into a few shops on the high street. 

In the afternoon the interview with the tv show takes two hours. The two co-hosts are dressed in bright primary colour and the woman has a kooky hairstyle. It almost feels like doing an interview with a children's show. The two people whose names Stiles can't remember are obnoxiously happy and loud. They've just started a 20-rapid-fire-questions 'game'. 

“Do you consider yourself more of a Bingley or a Darcy?” the woman asks. 

“Uh...” What's the right answer? “Well we have a contestant on the show, Derek, and he's definitely a Darcy,” Stiles says to buy time, “but I think I'm more of a Bingley,” Stiles smiles. He's thankful he recently read Pride & Prejudice & Zombies so he understood the reference immediately. 

“Do you put your pants or your socks on first?” asks the man. 

Jesus. Stiles can't picture his morning routine know that he's trying to. Does the answer even matter? “Socks.” Stiles remembers the instant after that the real answer is pants. 

“Ha-HA!” reacts the man. “You're a bit of a free-spirit aren't you?” 

Stiles desperately tries to stop his smile becoming a grimace. 

“Boxers of briefs?” the woman asks. 

Stiles can't help but frown. What does that have to do with anything? “Boxers,” Stiles says purposefully giving them the wrong information. 

“A real FREE-spirit, ha-HA,” says the man with a wink. 

Stiles knows he has to be grimacing right now. He's basically wincing. 

“You did wonderfully, Stiles,” says the woman in a too-soft voice. “Now, let's talk family. I know you have a special someone in mind now that we're halfway through the competition.” 

Stiles frowns. No, he doesn't. 

“I know they're going to be meeting your dad. But if your mum was still with us, who do you think her favourite contestant would be?” 

Stiles frowns. He doesn't just frown, he glares. “Derek,” Stiles spits out. It's the name at the top of his mind because he'd mentioned him earlier. These people don't deserve the respect of a properly thought-out answer. 

Stiles' bad mood seems finally to have caught on. The woman sits back in her chair, mouth open as if no-one had ever been fed up with her before (which is impossible). 

“Let's take a break,” Lydia calls out. “Five minutes.” She drags Stiles into a corner. “Those people, those annoying, irritating morons, are your ticket to success. A successful season, a successful reputation, a successful career after all of this is over, understand? You have to deal with these people as a sort of colleague. After the season airs, while it airs, you might have to deal with them again and again. So make nice, okay? Don't burn bridges you are currently standing on. Yes?” With that Lydia shoved him back into the centre of the room and Stiles climbs back into his chair. 

“Are you ready to go again?” the man asks. The woman is looking warily at Stiles. 

“Yes, definitely. Sorry about that, earlier.” Stiles shoves a smile onto his face and makes eye contact with both of them. 

 

~~

 

Stiles refuses to go back to his granny flat. He's left unattended by Lydia who needs the bathroom for one moment and then he simply walks away while the two PAs Lydia has left in-charge call after him, begging him to stay put. 

“Don't you think you'd rather -”

“There's food in your sitting room-” 

Stiles ignores them. He's walking around the upper storey balcony when he notices someone vaguely familiar. Fintock's voice carries loudly and Stiles finds the winding stairs down to the bottom level and crosses to meet the man. Finstock has a half-eaten jam donut in one hand, the other half in his mouth as he laughs loudly at something he's said, waving the donut for emphasis. 

“Coach,” Stiles remembers to call him at the last moment. “What are you doing here?” 

“Stilinski! My Omega, my precious little baby,” Finstock wraps an arm around his shoulders. The person he'd been talking at scatters. The two PAs following Stiles stand a few feet away, watching. “How has it been? How are you liking it?” 

“It's... weird.” 

Finstock barks a laugh. “How many contestants have you slept with? That second season Alpha went through almost all of the contestants. And half the crew, I heard. That boy knew how to have fun. You had your cherry popped yet?” 

“N-no. I don't think Production would be okay with that.” 

“They'd be fine with it if they managed to catch it on camera. We can still market you as the Virgin Omega even if you've slept with almost everyone here. A word to the wise, however, it does tend to go better if you sleep with the person you end up choosing at the end. We had one season with an Omega who slept with everyone BUT the person they ended up with, and when that Alpha found out, whooo, we had a nightmare and a half keeping that out of the press.” Finstock is leading Stiles on a stroll around the pool by the arm wrapped around his neck. 

“Uh...” 

“Right, we need to talk about your Mating Ceremony after the final Selection Ceremony. The sooner we can do it after the season airs, the better. We don't want it done immediately because that says it's just for views, which it IS, but we don't want the audience to know that. If we could time it so that the special airs at the same time as our next Alpha season airs, that would be amazing. So we'd be filming about four to five months from now to get it edited in time. Sound good?” 

“Uh-”

“Great, so the thing is whoever you choose needs to agree to be on the Mating Special. Okay? Even if we just film it, no paperwork, they still need to agree to the filming. Understand? Now I think it would be best if YOU broached the subject because I think it'd be more natural. Someone says no to the Special, you cut them, got it?” 

“What if I really like someone but they say no to filming the Special?” 

Finstock takes a bite of donut, tilting his head side to side rapidly in response to Stiles' question. “If that's what you wanted, boy-o, you should have thought about it before you agreed to the Mating Special.”

“I haven't signed anything yet,” Stiles says. He's asked Lydia about it; he needed to be able to talk to independent counsel before he signed a new contract. Apparently a contract signed while he was under the show's lock and key, with a lawyer the show hired for him, wouldn't stand up in court. Lydia had said something about finding that out the hard way. 

“But you will. Or we'll out your little friends and the cameraman's affair, the big guy, he's out on the street. That footage of that drunk mess of a contestant is all over YouTube before you can blink.” Finstock had slowed to a stop and his free hand was on the back of Stiles' neck, giving it a hard squeeze. “You don't want to find out what happens when you fuck with us. We've been around a while. We're a Goliath who's been in the ring for over a decade. No-one's toppled us yet. It's not going to be you, Virgin Hick. You hear me?” Finstock squeezed again, smiling hugely with his teeth. 

Stiles gulped. 

“Besides,” Finstock said casually, throwing his hand back around Stiles' shoulders and dragging him forwards again, “I've done you a favour. That new hot one, Jen, she's already said she's willing to film the Special. She'll play ball, you pretend to be in love for a year and then she'll fade away quietly, say the break up was amicable, blah blah blah. So don't cut her unless you have someone else locked in, hard, hear me?” 

“Yes, Coach,” Stiles said. 

“Good boy.” Finstock patted him on the shoulder and walked off. 

Stiles felt like he'd been put through a cycle in a washing machine. He was happy to be lead back to the golfcarts via Crafts by the PAs. 

So Chris and Jennifer. Final 3. Now all he had to do was ask the Hales about whether they wanted to film a Mating Special. Peter was a heavy yes. 

So Laura, Derek and Malia maybe going home. Stiles would have to keep that in mind with the two-on-one and group dates this week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments keep me going. Please let me know your theories and ideas. Some of you have guessed 100% correct what's coming in the comments and it's so much fun to read.


	17. Day 28 to 30 - Double & Group Date

Stiles was on a two-on-one date. Laura and Jennifer sat opposite him in the limo. They were on their way to a farmer's market. Afterwards they would head back to the house and cook up the ingredients in the kitchen. 

Laura and Jennifer were oddly similar. They were roughly the same height, same long dark hair, same watchful eyes, approximately the same age. There was a confidence to Laura and a sweetness to Jennifer the other lacked. 

Conversation was stifled. No matter what prompts the producers threw at them the topic fizzled quickly. They ended up talking about favourite foods and restaurants with long pauses. 

The market was crowded. Laura and Jennifer had each been given a budget and pen and paper to jot down a recipe. First Stiles was dragged along behind Laura while Laura chose her ingredients, and then Jennifer. It was too rushed and loud to talk. Stiles just stumbled along behind them both, hoping it wouldn't become sort of traditional Alpha-Omega roleplay when the episode airs. 

Conversation wasn't any better on the way home. Laura and Jennifer didn't seem to be connecting at all. Lydia looked ready to snap a pen as prompt after prompt failed. 

“So Laura,” Lydia finally said, “You have trouble having friendships with other women?” 

Laura huffed. “Of course not. I have relationships with other women. Like Cora and Malia.”

“Those aren't friends. Those are family,” Lydia pointed out. 

“You do seem really high-strung,” Jennifer added, voice like butter. 

Stiles wanted to climb into the upholstery. This was like a confessional but out in the real world with witnesses. 

Laura scoffed. “I get along fine with everyone. I guess I just am used to hanging out with other men, because I work a lot and a lot of my co-workers are male.” 

“You didn't really get along with Erica, either, did you?” Lydia asks. Stiles frowned and shook his head at his producer reproachfully. 

“Erica was a...” Laura rolled her eyes, “She wasn't my cup of tea. Besides, she left, didn't she? Because she couldn't play by the rules.”

“With the cameraman?” Jennifer asked to clarify, clearly having been filled in on some points by Finstock. 

“Hey!” Stiles interjected. “Hey!” He didn't want this conversation on camera. “Everyone shut it! Let's just... talk about who gets the rose.”

“No,” Lydia hastly cut in, “Not until after the cooking.” 

“Can we not just skip that part?” Laura asked, words clipped. 

“We don't have anything worth putting in the show yet,” Lydia said. “So no.” 

There was tense silence until they reached the house. Stiles cooked with Laura first, Jennifer sat at the counter watching and sipping wine. 

“Try to chop them finer than that,” Laura suggested to Stiles. Stiles frowned and sliced the knife through his pile of onions again. “No, like this,” Laura said, taking hold of his left elbow and his right wrist. “Finer.” 

When the episode airs they slowed the scene down and played romantic music over it. They needed to manipulate it that much to overcome the awkwardness of Laura's micro-managing and Stiles' discomfort. 

Eventually Laura slams a hastily thrown-together lasagna in the oven and then it's Jennifer's turn. 

Jennifer clearly thinks she's won the rose by default and is flirty although it's more of a performance aimed at Laura than meant for Stiles. As Jennifer cosies up to him and slides her arms around him in a sweeter version of Laura's earlier hold, Ghost-style but with potatoes instead of clay, all Stiles can think of is Finstock. 

Finstock being this close to Jennifer. Jennifer looking into Finstock's eyes seductively the same way she is doing to him. The fact Jennifer is willing to have sex with Finstock for reality tv fame... Finstock telling him to keep Jennifer because she would definitely film the Mating special. 

The way neither Jennifer or Finstock appear to have a problem with her dating Finstock and Stiles simultaneously. Would Finstock be okay with them kissing the way Jennifer was clearly angling for, in between shy eyelash fluttering and innocent blushing? 

Stiles was... repulsed. The closest feeling he could put a label to was prostitution. Jennifer was touching his waist because Finstock had arranged it, was never more than two feet away and always laughing at anything Stiles said because of Finstock. 

Stiles couldn't help the unsettling feeling that because he was the one with the least say in the situation he was the actual prostitute.

Peter would be a vast improvement over Jennifer in the final. 

That was how Stiles ended up giving the rose to Laura despite the disaster their entire date was. He had known Laura longer and he didn't think of Finstock whenever he looked at her. 

Stiles didn't know which of the women was more surprised when he handed the rose to Laura. Jennifer's mask cracked for just a moment and absolute fury and jealousy spilled over her face before the porcelain doll was back, blinking widely at the pink rose in Laura's hands. Laura couldn't even put words together to thank Stiles for the rose. 

After a few prods from Braeden Laura managed to say, “Thank you.” It took a few re-tries for her voice to be lively enough to meet their standards and then filming was over. 

Stiles didn't even get to eat the prepared food. He watched the crew slicing it up for themselves as Stiles was lead back to his private room in the mansion before a PA became available to chauffeur him home. 

 

~~~

 

After a day of Deaton and confessionals Stiles was glad for the next date as an excuse to leave the compound. It was a group date of three. That meant of Malia, Peter, Derek and Chris, one was staying home. 

“Malia,” Stiles announced to the contestants gathered in the sitting room. “Derek.” 

Stiles looked meaning fully between Peter and Chris in a moment which would be used to lead into an ad break. 

“Chris,” Stiles announced. 

Peter raised an eyebrow. Stiles smirked at him. 

“Does this mean I'm being saved for a very special solo date?” Peter asked, voice silken, as the other three went to get ready. 

“No. It means I know exactly who you are and what I think of you.” Stiles watched Peter rise and walk slowly towards him. 

“So you already know you're going to keep me?” Peter stopped when his and Stiles' faces were almost touching. 

Stiles swayed forwards gently, rocking on the balls of his feet. Their bottom lips connected for a second. “Yes, I'm going to keep you.” Stiles felt a blush spread up from his chest to his cheeks. “At least for one more week. After that you're going to have to earn it.” 

Peter licked his lips, slowly, drawing Stiles' eyes. “I think I can manage that.” 

Stiles couldn't think of a sassy reply. He went off on his date with the other three, licking his lower lip, wondering if he could actually taste Peter or it was just memory. 

They went to the zoo. 

“Why do you keep taking me to places involving animals?” Chris asked playfully as they drew up in the limo and saw the sign. 

“I don't know. Just lucky.” Stiles wanted to make a joke about drawing out Chris' inner animal but wasn't sure they were on solid enough ground after Alison's visit had so thoroughly rattled the older man. 

Malia took Stiles' hand in hers as they walked around the reptile house. When she left to go to the bathroom Derek stepped forward. 

“I guess this makes it my turn,” Derek said, threading their fingers. 

Stiles squeezed Derek's hand, appreciating Derek's effort at being forward. He wasn’t expecting Chris to step forward and take his other hand. 

“Well.. fair's fair,” Chris said. 

Derek glowered but didn't say anything. Malia did a double-take when she returned. 

“Guess I'm a bit of a trend-setter,” Malia quipped. 

Stiles had thought holding hands with a handsome Alpha and gorgeous Beta with himself in the middle would have been the stuff of fantasies. But in reality his palms were sweaty, he was slightly off-balance, and his pace kept alternating between Derek and Chris' in a staccato shuffle. 

“Where to next?” a zoo guide asked when they reached a crossroads. 

“Birds,” Chris said, stepping right. 

“Large mammals,” Derek said, stepping left. 

A gentle tug-of-war began with Stiles acting as both rope and prize. 

“I want to see the swans.” 

“Large. Mammals.” 

“Swans.” 

“Wolves,” growled Derek.

“I want to see the penguins,” Malia announced. She stepped in front of them and gripped Stiles' waist, dragging him forwards. Stiles went with her until Derek and Chris were forced to come with them or let go. They both let go. 

Stiles walked with Malia, one of her arms draped around his middle. He looked back at one point to see Derek and Chris hadn't followed them. 

“Finally,” sighed Malia, “some peace and quiet.” She seemed happy to ignore the presence of Braeden and the cameraman following along. Stiles would see later Chris and Derek had a bit of a stare-off back in front of the quaint old-fashioned sign-post at the crossroads. 

Stiles and Malia found a picnic set out on the grassy area in the centre of the zoo. 

“I'm so sick of fucking picnics,” Stiles told Malia. They chatted for a while about inane stuff for the cameras, talking about their dreams and families while the camera had its battery changed. 

At the end of their alotted time Malia kissed him. She was warm and soft and confident and Stiles leaned in immediately. He ran his tongue over his lower lip after, which triggered the memory of doing the same that morning after the almost-kiss with Peter earlier. 

Peter. Who was Malia's father. 

Stiles recoiled liked he'd been slapped. Malia was already standing and walking away while Chris was brought forward. 

It was the thoughts of fathers and daughters and sexual weirdness that prompted Stiles to lead into his conversation with Chris by saying, “So does it weird you out that I'm younger than Alison? I know you are. Weirded out, I mean. But how weirded out? You're like the only normal dude here, Chris, and I don't know how much of that is just inherited Hale inability to interact with other people, and the fact pretty much everyone but you is a Hale, but I kind of need you to stick around to bring some normalcy into this.” 

Chris opened and shut his mouth twice. “Uhh...”

“I mean I like you. A lot. And maybe it IS daddy issues, but you're so hot and I-” Stiles swallowed. “I'd like you to like me back.” 

“I do like you,” Chris admitted like it hurt. “I think... I think that's part of why I'm so weird with you. Because of how much I like you and feel like I shouldn't. I feel guilty. If anyone had the kind of thoughts about Ally that I have about you... and they were my age... I'd kill them.” 

Stiles blinked. “So you don't just like me... you... think about me. Thoughts.” A big smile spread slowly across his face. “Naughty thoughts.” 

Chris blushed, which with his salt-and-pepper stubble was incredibly fetching. “Well, I-”

“How often do you spend thinking about me like that?” 

Chris flicked a look at the cameras. He coughed. “You're a very desirable Omega, Stiles. I've heard through the grapevine that America agrees with me.” The fourth wall-break would be edited around. “I think I like you the normal amount any Alpha who got to spend a lot of time with you would.” That line made it into promo materials. “So I think about you a lot.” 

Stiles could feel his heart beating in his chest. Chris liked him, a lot, the way an Alpha likes an Omega. He could swoon. If he could get Chris to agree to the Mating Special... Stiles considered bringing up the prospect but decided against it. Not right now. He didn't want to spoil the moment... but if Chris said yes... Stiles thought about Alison and Scott being his daughter- and son-in-law. It didn't matter. If Chris was in the final two and asked him to be his... he'd say yes. He'd have a child with Chris. Maybe they'd only have the one because Chris thought he was too old... the thought of Scott and Alison having a child the same age as his and Chris'... He'd love to have Chris' child. 

Stiles swayed forwards, brushing his breath over Chris' mouth. “You're such an amazing Alpha. Any Omega would be lucky to have you.” 

And then they were kissing, stubble grazing around Stiles' lips. Maybe he'd get stubble rash. Maybe one day he'd have it everywhere...Stiles opened his mouth and swiped his tongue across Chris' lips. 

Chris drew back with a groan. “You're trying to draw me into Rut again.” 

Stiles giggled. Chris... in Rut... the idea that he might have had something to do with Chris going into Rut before... he leant in again. Chris didn't draw away. Their tongues met before a half-second before their lips did. 

Oh yes. Stiles would let Chris do things to him... 

Stiles felt drunk when they parted. It was enough to make Stiles question whether the ginger beer in his champagne flute might be the real thing. Chris was being called away but not before giving Stiles one last, dark look. 

He was giggly and silly when Derek sat down next to him. He'd love to kiss Derek. Derek was... Derek was beautiful. Wholly different to almost anyone in the competition, except maybe Isaac, the kind of beauty they'd dedicate marble sculptures to. He nodded along to Derek's commentary on the animals they'd seen so far, watching his mouth. 

“I mean have you ever really thought about what it would be like to be a gecko?” Derek asked. 

Stiles leant forward and pressed a kiss to the corner of Derek's mouth. 

Derek froze. “I didn't know you were so interested in lizards,” Derek eventually commented. 

Stiles frowned. “What?” 

“What?” asked Derek. 

“What?” repeated Stiles. 

Derek looked at Stiles like he was the weird one. “Okay. So what do you think of Malia?” Derek asked. “Can you tell from the sheer obnoxiousness she's Peter's daughter?” 

Stiles shook his head. “I don't want to talk about Peter and Malia. I don't even want to think about them. It's weird dating a father and daughter at the same time.”

“Weirder than dating an uncle and cousins?”

“Way weirder. It's like dating Chris and Alison at the same time.” Stile shuddered. “Besides,” he said loudly, interrupting himself, “I really like Malia. She's funny and confident and her hair is so soft and smells amazing.” He leant forward and sniffed meaningfully. “I can't even smell your hair.” 

Derek tilted his head down, as if baring the back of his neck. “Really? It doesn't stay this spiky on its own.” 

Stiles laughed and sniffed again, Derek's hair ticking his nose. “It smells like product.” 

Derek leant forward without coming too close, without it becoming a proper Scenting, and sniffed at Stiles. “You smell like cheap hairspray.” 

“I'll have you know the styling department picked out this hair product, mister.” 

Derek laughed lowly, the sounds reverberating through Stiles' lower abdomen. “It's terrible.”

“YOU'RE terrible...” Stiles laughed. He and Derek were making eye contact and time went on as they kept looking, studying the dilation of each other's pupils and the colours of each other's eyes. Absolutely all sense left Stiles as he said, “You know if he we kiss you'll be the fourth person I kissed today. Technically.” 

Derek drew back with a frown, top lip drawn back on the edge of a sneer. “Fourth?” His eyes darted around as he mentally catalogued their date. “Who was the the third!?” 

Stiles was startled enough to say, “Peter.” Stiles panicked. “But only, like, a little. Bottom lip only.” 

Derek drew back. “Hm. Well I think you'll understand if I don't feel like being the fourth.” 

“Have we kissed yet?” Stiles asked. 

“Wait, what?” 

“I was just asking... we haven't kissed, right?”

“You can't keep track? Jesus, how many contestants have you thrown yourself at?” 

“I haven't THROWN myself at anyone, thank you, I just couldn't remember-” 

“Wow, well if we have it can't have been that amazing, right?” 

“Well that's why I asked – I figured if we had I would have remembered-” 

That was definitely a sneer on Derek's face. “Guess not.”

“Don't be like that, hey, it's a LOT going on here on this show-”

“So this thing between us is about the show!?” Derek shook his head. 

“No, I just, it's part of it, it's to help judge, you know hormonal – pheromone attractiveness-” 

Derek directed what could only be a glare at Stiles. “And I need to kiss you to qualify for the next round?”

“No- no, it just helps-”

“Helps? You can't even remember-” 

“It helps!” Stiles shouted. “This is bullshit, you KNOW it's all bullshit. How else am I supposed to know who I like when I spend like ten minutes with each of you a week!?” 

The hand on the back of Stiles' neck was a shock, but not as much as the mouth pressing urgently against his in the next moment. Derek had stubble as well, his lips were hard, ungiving, but all he could smell with his nose pressed to the side of Derek's was Derek's woodsy Beta scent. 

It was a terrible kiss. Stiles desperately wanted to give Derek a second chance to improve his overall score. 

“Remember THAT,” Derek spat. The editors must have had a hell of a time with cutting out all the fourth-wall-breaking to dramatise their interaction to the point they were kissing. They also removed all discussion of Stiles kissing a lot of people to keep his wholesome Omega image, although they did of course include all three kisses from the group date in the episode that aired. The editors were left with almost nothing to use leading up to the kiss and Derek came across as aggressive to over-compensate for being a Beta and deeply jealous. 

Stiles was still breathing heavy, wanting to kiss and punch Derek simultaneously, as he was driven back in his own limo to the house. 

Four kisses in one day. Still a virgin. If only Stiles knew he was going to be knotted sooner rather than later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to anyone still reading or anyone finding this for the first time. I appreciate your comments and Kudos. Please let me know where your thought are at. Thank you so much for reading. 
> 
> This was going to be pretty much PG-13 but then I realised I couldn't have a fic in an A/B/O universe with the title based on a knotting pun without including some actual knotting, right? 
> 
> If this fic has any glaring errors feel free to let me know. I am posting this after writing while having had a drink or two. Or three. Whatever works to get the creative juices flowing. (I am watching Dirk Gently s2 on Netflix, and I am following nothing but I am pretty sure it would be the same sober.)


	18. Day 31 to 33 - Group Date & Cocktail Party

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing wrote itself. Please note the added tags. This is the chapter that earned the Explicit rating.

Stiles had braved the confessional room with Deaton for four hours that morning. Currently he was lying on his bed with a colouring-in book and textas out in front of him. He'd opened a blank white page at the very front and written out everyone's name with the dark purple. 

Derek  
Peter  
Chris  
Malia  
Laura  
Jennifer 

He was going to have cut someone at the selection ceremony tomorrow. Stiles drew a heart next to Laura's name to signify she had a rose this round. Then he drew a heart next to Chris and Jennifer's because they were on safe on account of their unique positions of not being Hales. 

That left Derek, Peter and Malia. And of course, the looming obligation of the Mating Special. Peter got a heart next to his name. He had all but said he would agree to such a thing if Stiles chose him. Dating and fake-marrying Peter for a year wouldn't be so bad. 

Would Malia agree to the special? Stiles might genuinely want to be her Mate.

Derek? No. He could barely handle being filmed for this show, he would hate a Mating Special. 

Well, that settled it. Stiles' mouth could feel the ghost of a bruise from slamming into Derek's during that disaster of a kiss. Derek didn't want to be here anyway. Settled. 

Stiles sighed heavily, looking out the nearest window to see grey clouds rolling in. Lydia would be there soon in a golf-cart to take him to film a snippet of interview for a gossip-y morning show. 

He wriggled more comfortably on the bed and hoped he could sleep until Lydia forced him back awake. 

 

~~~

 

It was the next day and Stiles was wearing a dark blue t-shirt and light blue jeans. He'd had a light trim and been shaved by a professional barber and was now standing in front of the contestants who were gathered in the drive-way in a semi-circle. Stiles was fidgeting, enjoying the smell of the face creams the barber had used, waiting for the signal the crew was ready. 

This might be the first selection ceremony he would go into 100% sure of his choice. It felt good, even if it was another case of knowing who he wanted to get rid of more than who he wanted to keep. 

First there was a group date. They were making meals for those in need while promoting a local charity. In order to not be completely tone-deaf the area reserved for Stiles to have one-on-one conversations with the contestants was in a staff kitchen area, with a geriatric refrigerator humming loudly and faded chairs that creaked when you sat on them. 

“What if something weird happens?” Stiles asked Lydia as they stood outside the cafeteria downtown, referring to the homeless people, one of whom seemed to be having a three-way conversation between themself, a person who was ignoring him, and a third person who wasn't there. 

“No, nothing will happen. Anyone the staff recognises as a problem will be directed to the other line. Only vetted individuals will get to go in our line,” Lydia explained. 

“Camera-friendly homeless people, huh?” Stiles asked. 

“Only the best for our Omega,” Lydia said, staring so intently at her phone she seemed to miss the sarcasm. 

There was no time to talk to the contestants while Stiles and the other served food to people in line. The plates were sectioned off with a meat-pasta, veg and pudding cup area. Stiles, as the season's Omega, got to hand the final product out to those in need, front and centre for the cameras. 

Everyone was very polite and the whole process was matter-of-fact; it almost felt like Stiles could be working in an actual cafeteria with regular customers apart from the lack of payment. The producers weren't happy with the lack of gratefulness from the people receiving food. Two of the PAs got to put on some clothes from the lost-and-found and pretend to be customers once the line was empty, fawning over Stiles for his generosity of handing them a plate. 

Afterwards Stiles got to sit in the staff kitchen area and the contestants were brought in as if by appointment. Nothing memorable happened. Everyone seemed subdued by the setting and the act of charity they'd been participating in (except Jennifer who kept pouting faux-sympathetically and trying to hold Stiles' hand). Nothing juicy happened but the editors managed to use the serious, stilted tone of the conversations to infer how serious, or contrastingly how empty, Stiles' connection was with certain people.

They were shepherded back to the house in one limo for the lot of them. 

Stiles was surprised at how well Derek and Jennifer got along. Malia sat next to Stiles and Peter sat silently, eyes flickering between the two of them as they talked. Chris was on Stiles' other side and Stiles tried to surreptitiously lean back against him as much as possible to feel his warmth. Laura was happy to look out the window, a small wedge between her eyebrows. Stiles would have asked what she was thinking about if they were sat closer together but didn't want to draw attention from the others present. 

Everyone separated back at the mansion to get into their cocktail-party looks. Stiles was truly awed by the never-ending parade of suits the styling department had available to make sure he didn't repeat an outfit. He ended up in a tight-fitting black suit with white pinstripes. It felt like it was made from wetsuit material, thick yet stretchy and moulded to his body, but with the traditional buttons and zipper. The pants and jacket matched, and the only other part of the outfit was a sheer white shirt that avoided being see-through by virtue of the layers of ruffles at the chest. 

Stiles surveyed himself doubtfully in the full-length mirror. 

“Trust me, this will look amazing on camera. It bring attention to your waist and cheekbones, you'll see,” Satomi, head stylist, said. 

“I don't know about the shoes...” Stiles said, looking down at the knee-length boots that had been laced up over the trousers. 

“The boots make the outfit! It ties everything together,” Satomi announced. 

Stiles twisted around again. He'd worn outfits less flattering, but probably not less ridiculous. 

“Oh, hush,” Satomi said in response to his facial expression. “You wait and see. If you're not wiping Alpha drool off from the person you see, I'll let you choose your next outfit. That sound like a deal?” 

Stiles sighed and looked himself in the eye in the mirror. “There's no point trying to hold onto my dignity this far into the show, is there?”

Satomi didn't take that comment as a compliment and walked away muttering about ungrateful lay-people and high fashion. 

To Satomi's credit, as soon as Stiles walked outside he certainly had the Alphas' and Beta's attention. Even some of the crew seemed to be more focused on him than their work than hey should be. 

“Hello, cupcake,” Peter purred, snatching Stiles' attention first. “What is this little get-up you've got on?” He plucked at the shoulder. 

“Ah, it wasn't my idea. This is all Satomi Ito.” 

“I have no doubt of that,” Peter smirked. “This outfit says all the things you might want to say but wouldn't know how to put into words, or rather, clothing. You look good enough to eat. My compliments to Satomi.” 

Stiles didn't know what to say in response to that, twirling the dyed-darker lemonade in his champagne flute. He just looked away and blushed. 

“Not that you don't always look good enough to eat,” Peter inched even closer. If Stiles had thought Peter was being flirty before... the way the Alpha was looking at him was basically foreplay. 

Stiles' brain still couldn't come up with anything in response so he took a sip of fake champagne. 

“Are you feeling shy?” Peter murmured. “Why don't we go somewhere more quiet and see if we can loosen your tongue?” 

Stiles was 100% sure the fabric of his pants were perfectly outlining his erection. Satomi had strongly suggested the pants needed to be worn without underwear to avoid lines and like some sort of idiot Stiles had listened. 

“What are you doing to him, Peter?” Derek asked, stopping next to them. 

“I'm not doing anything. Yet.” 

“Can we talk?” Derek asked Stiles. 

Stiles blinked then nodded, following Derek off to a love-seat with pots of roses on either side. 

Once they were seated Derek sighed and then scooched closer until their knees were touching. “I wanted to apologise... for the kiss.” 

Stiles took a gulp of lemonade. 

“I'm sorry I was so angry, and it's not how I wanted out first kiss to go. I've been kicking myself that I can never take it back and that will forever be our first kiss. But I was...” Derek studied the ground and took a drink of his own champagne. “I was hoping you would let me make it up to you.” 

“Okay. How?” 

“Well... another kiss?” 

“Oh.” Stiles leant back in his seat. He hadn't really enjoyed the first one. Was he kissing people for the sake of kissing people now? “I, uh...”

“You don't have to.” Derek smoothed his palms over his thighs back-and-forth and Stiles realised he was nervous. 

It was disarming enough, flattering enough, from the attractive serious man that Stiles nodded. He left his champagne on a side table. 

“But not here,” Derek said. “Not in front of the cam – the others. Come on,” he whispered, as if at least two cameras weren't currently pointed at them and there weren't people stationed nearby whose explicit job detail was to keep track of them.

Derek lead Stiles off the patio and into the garden. He paused and turned to Stiles when they were at the edge of it, taking Stiles' hand in his. The cameras were super visible although they were giving them space to make the moment seem more organic and they could zoom as needed later. 

“So I wanted to talk to you... You trust me right?” Derek asked. 

“I guess.” 

Derek threw a look at the cameras and suddenly pulled Stiles further away from the house, breaking into a run. At the edge of the estate was trees. The fencing was further into the woods so it wasn't visible in shots of the back-yard. Derek lead Stiles along there, saying loudly, “There's a hole in the fence we can go through. I found it the other day.” 

Stiles could hear producers calling their names behind them. It was starting to get dark and he could hear bugs buzzing around. It was even darker in the trees. What if they couldn't find their way back to the hole in the fence after? 

“Uh, Derek-” 

“Sh.” Derek pointed at the flash-lights heading towards them across the yard, pulling Stiles along the fenceline in the opposite direction they'd been travelling. Stiles watched from behind a wide tree trunk, Derek spooned against his back, as the crew chased after where they thought they'd gone. 

“Oh,” Stiles said lightly, aware their mics were still on. 

Derek turned them so Stiles had his back to the trunk and brought his face close, their noses touching. It seemed like he was trying to say something with his eyes but Stiles couldn't decipher it in the low-light. Then Derek tilted his head, pressing a small kiss to Stiles' mouth as if it were an apology. Then a kiss to each lip, first lower, then upper, sucking slightly on his upper lip. 

Stiles panted against Derek's mouth. He pressed a kiss to Derek's mouth, short and sweet, trying to reciprocate in the conversation they seemed to be having. 

Derek pressed another kiss to his mouth, lips shut but so gentle, and then a kiss to Stiles' cheek and then his neck, above where the fabric ended. Then another gentle sucking kiss to Stiles' earlobe. 

Stiles mouthed the word 'fuck' trying to stop himself from panting or moaning, which they could easily use in the show even if they didn't have visuals. 

“We can-” Stiles was distracted by a kiss to his eyebrow. “We can turn our microphone packs off,” he whispered. 

But Derek was kissing him again, and that was tongue, finally, and Stiles was going to come in these stupid ridiculous pants like a teenager and it would probably turn the pants see-through or something...

Derek seemed to be liking the kiss as much as he did, the Beta's hips pushing into Stiles' rigidly, Derek making these adorable snuffling noises around the kiss...

A flash-light found them and they separated themselves. 

“What have I told you about going off on your own with contestants!?” Lydia snarled as she escorted him back to the house. Behind them Derek seemed to be having even more of a chew-out from Jackson. 

“Where have you been?” Chris asked. Chris, Peter, Malia, Laura and Jennifer were stood together in the centre of the room. 

“I wasn't gone that long,” Stiles said. 

“They said you were missing,” Jennifer said. 

“I'm right here.”

“They said you might have been abducted,” Laura rolled her eyes. 

“By what, aliens!?” 

“They just wanted us to freak out about you and Derek off together, 'oh my gosh, where are they?' so they could make it a Thing,” Malia said, punctuating her statement by sipping a cocktail through a straw. 

“In the episode itself I'll have been missing for an hour or something and nobody realised,” Stiles laughed. “As if cameras weren't three feet away the whole time.” His amusement died as Derek was marched across the patio towards the sliding glass doors. 

“What's going on?” Stiles called out as Laura and Peter asked the same thing. 

“Derek's going to his room for the rest of the night until the selection ceremony,” Jackson declared. 

“Derek!” Stiles shouted, catching everyone's attention. “Apology accepted,” he said lamely. 

It was enough to make Derek smile. Not a patented Hale smirk but an honest-to-God smile and Stiles felt his organs liquefy in a way that was somehow not unpleasant. 

The sliding doors were shut with a bang once Derek and his guards were inside. 

“What were you and my dear nephew up to?” Peter asked. 

“Nothing. Talking. Derek wanted to apologise for our date not going well the other day. And like I said, I accepted.” God, he was horny. This was ridiculous. Water, water, everywhere, and not a drop to drink. Looking at Peter wasn't helping. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” Chris said, “I've been thinking and-” 

“Excuse me,” Laura said primly, the rose she'd been awarded on the double-date and would carry into the selection ceremony grasped in one hand, “but I need to speak to Stiles. Urgently. Apologies, Christopher.” She took Stiles by the hand and tugged him into the garden. The crew hovered only as far as needed to not be in the shot after the earlier escapade with Derek.

“What did you-?” Stiles barely had time to sit down. 

“Listen, why did you give me the rose on our double-date? Why not Jennifer? She's throwing herself at you.” 

“Err... I like you more.” 

Laura shook her head. “Stiles,” she said in a soft voice. “I was hoping you might notice I'm not exactly... returning your interest. I think you're wonderful and I'd love to have as part of the family if you chose Derek or Malia or heaven-forbid Peter, but I don't think we have a connection. Right?” 

Stiles looked at the rose in her hand that granted her immunity. “You want me to break up with you?” 

“I've already asked and they've said they can't over-ride the rose given on the date. I guess you could try at the ceremony but I just... I needed to say something. I thought for sure Jennifer, anyone else, would get the rose and I'd be going home this week, and then somehow,” she laughed, “I got the rose? I needed to get it out so you know, moving forwards, where I stand. Where we stand.” 

Stiles' head swam. Wasn't he sending Derek home this week – oh no wait, fuck, they'd reconciled... Laura wanted to go home. But she was stuck here. 

“This really is a game show rather than somewhere to find love,” Laura sneered. “Since we can't over-turn the 'rules' and make choices about what we really think and feel.” Laura aimed her glare at Lydia who was standing nearby. Lydia returned the glare neatly. 

“So that's all I wanted to say. I didn't want to not accept a rose, I didn't think to reject it on the date, I was so surprised, and it's too late now apparently. But next week cut me, okay? Or I'll have to cut myself.” Laura stood. She nodded at Stiles like they'd just finished up a business lunch and then strode off. 

Stiles couldn't help the tears that came. He didn't really feel sad but it was all just... a-lot. The insanity that was the Jennifer and Finstock alliance, Derek's Jeckyll and Hyde act when it came to affection, the pseudo-incest that was dating four Hales simultaneously, and now Laura rejecting him out-right. He'd known of course she wasn't _enthusiastic_ about him for lack of a better term but perhaps he'd been in denial. Stiles had wanted Laura to like him, had liked the idea of Laura, even if their best date was their first one when they'd hardly known each other. Laura was the sort of person who wouldn't look at him twice out in the real world but had been forced to because they were on a reality show together where Stiles was the bachelor. 

__And that right there – Stiles remembered asking his Dad, “What if none of them like me?” – that was the heart of the issue. If Laura was willing to hide her true feelings in the name of show biz, how many of the other contestants felt the same way? How many wouldn't look at him twice on the outside in the real world? All of them?_ _

__Stiles sniffed and wiped his tears away. Lydia crouched nearby and put a comforting hand on his knee. “Do you want to talk about it to the camera?”_ _

__“No,” said Stiles thickly, standing up and walking off quickly, angrily swiping at his face._ _

__“Stiles,” said Chris, “Do you think we can talk now?”_ _

__Stiles sniffled a little. “Sure.”_ _

__“Are you okay?” His face and voice were full of paternal concern and that was another layer of fucked-uped-ness on top of everything else that Stiles couldn't deal with._ _

__Stiles shook his head aggressively. His eyes met with Laura's briefly where she was keeping to herself on the edge of the room. Stiles felt his lower lip wobble._ _

__“Sh, okay, let's go somewhere to talk,” Chris suggested, voice soft._ _

__They ended up in the kitchen. The camera operators backed off, thankfully, willing to rely on the cameras wired up throughout the house including the kitchen Big Brother-style for footage._ _

__Stiles blew his nose with the tissue Chris handed him and then accepted the hug the older man offered._ _

__“Are you okay?” Chris asked softly._ _

__“No.”_ _

__Chris rubbed a large hand firmly in circle between Stiles' shoulder blades._ _

__“That is so nice,” Stiles whispered, melting into Chris._ _

__“I just want you to feel okay.”_ _

__“Would you have liked me? On the outside?” Stiles murmured._ _

__Chris hummed. “I might have, but I'd have never acted on it. I'd have felt like a dirty old man.” He tilted Stiles' head up. “It's not a bad thing, having the show bring people together who might not have considered each other as Mates otherwise. I'm grateful for the show because it meant I got to meet you, Stiles. Maybe we never would have ended up together on the outside, but that's okay, that's why both of us agreed to come on the show. Because we were willing to meet someone like each other.” Chris stroked a hand across Stiles' cheek._ _

__Stiles sighed, feeling his eyelashes stutter. His dick was going to get whiplash._ _

__After Laura's rejection Stiles felt vulnerable. He wanted so very much to feel wanted. He leant closer to Chris and whispered, “Can we go somewhere even more private?”_ _

__Chris considered for a moment but then nodded and lead Stiles deeper into the house, into parts Stiles had never been before. There was a room off the hall from the kitchen full of lighting equipment, door ajar._ _

__Chris lead Stiles to a room on the first floor at the end of a hallway that seemed to be a prison cell. There was a mattress on the floor, a sink and a toilet._ _

__“What is this?” Stiles asked._ _

__“This is the Rut room.”_ _

__Stiles felt himself grow warmer. “Oh.”_ _

__“This is where I spent that week after out date with the Scent of you in my nose.”_ _

__Stiles shivered despite feeling warmer and warmer. The mood in the air changed._ _

__“There are absolutely no cameras in here,” Chris said, shutting the door. He fingered the lock. “I can lock it if you want. How private do you want us to be?”_ _

__“You can lock it,” Stiles said. He reached to the back of his pants and pulled his mic pack out, turning it off. He walked towards Chris and did the same for him. “Now they can't hear us.”_ _

__Chris looked down at Stiles, eyes serious. “We don't have to do anything-”_ _

__Stiles surged forward and kissed Chris, winding his arms around the older man's thicker torso like weeds. Here he had actual privacy with someone he could be reasonable sure actually liked him because it hadn't been immediate, it hadn't been artificial or calculated, Chris had decided to make the effort despite having reservations._ _

__“That outfit is ridiculous,” Chris growled against Stiles' mouth, clutching at Stiles' ass and squeezing. “Is this okay?”_ _

__“It's fine, it's good-”_ _

__“It's just those fucking shoes,” Chris pushed out before shoving his tongue into Stiles' mouth._ _

__“I can taken them off,” Stiles offered breathlessly as Chris attached his neck._ _

__“No, leave them on.” Chris swiped his tongue up Stiles' neck to his cheek. “I'd like to see you in just those, nothing else.”_ _

__Stiles whimpered, thrusting his hips at Chris._ _

__“What do you want to do?” Chris asked._ _

__“I want you to fuck me,” Stiles said immediately. He was speaking before his brain had even processed the question._ _

__Chris pressed the back of one shaking hand to his mouth. “No, sweetheart, I won't take you here, like this...”_ _

__Stiles thought about his past sexual activity which consisted only of Peter and getting his dick sucked._ _

__“I could suck you,” Stiles offered._ _

__“Hm,” Chris grunted._ _

__“If that's okay. I don't know if I'll be any good – I've never done it before.”_ _

__Chris made a sound like he'd been hit in the stomach. “You're going to kill me.”_ _

__“Can I?” Stiles asked._ _

__“Yes, yes, of course you can,” Chris sounded physically pained._ _

__Stiles dropped down to his knees, gripping Chris' thighs for stability._ _

__“Jesus Christ,” Chris swore above him as Stiles unbuttoned Chris' fly._ _

__“I haven't done anything yet,” Stiles laughed._ _

__“I know, I know, I'm just-”_ _

__Stiles pulled Chris' pants and boxer briefs down in one go. Chris smelt strongly, musky and masculine but pure. Stiles couldn't resist leaning forward to inhale the scent of him near the base of his cock, already engorged with blood._ _

__Stiles leant back and looked up. “What... how should I start?”_ _

__Chris looked like a different person. He looked slightly crazed. “Just... hold it and kiss the tip, if you like.”_ _

__Stiles held it, fascinated by the way it felt so different to be holding someone else's organ, the warmth and how delicate and soft the skin was even as Chris grew thicker and harder. Stiles held it to his lips and kissed it close-mouthed, feeling silly, before opening his mouth the use his tongue._ _

__“Just like that, yes, good.”_ _

__Stiles' confidence was buoyed by Chris' praise and he opened his mouth, trying to avoid teeth, and sucked the head in gently._ _

__“Jesus fuck,” Chris swore above him._ _

__Stiles drew back. “Like that?”_ _

__“Yes, exactly.” A firm palm cupped Stiles' head, caressing it, before gently guiding him closer again, Chris' other hand helping to aim his dick at Stiles' mouth. “Open up, sweetheart.”_ _

__Stiles decided he liked Chris taking the lead, especially as he was completely new to this. Having had his own dick sucked gave very little information on how to go about doing the act himself. Peter sucked him down like linguine. It seemed impossible Stiles could ever fit Chris' entire cock in his mouth._ _

__Stiles suckled at Chris' head, Chris working his hand across the rest of his stem. Stiles gently moved back and forth in time with Chris' guiding hand, his dick never going further than the middle of Stiles' mouth. It was nice. It was soothing. Stiles could never come from this but it was erotic._ _

__“Do you want to try and take a bit more, babe?”_ _

__Stiles nodded with Chris still in his mouth._ _

__“You're taking most of me. You're doing really well,” Chris praised. “Just a bit more.” Chris continued to mutter as Stiles moved back and forward, sinking further and further down. “Oh yes, that's it, like that, you take it so easy don't you, such a natural, huh, baby?”_ _

__Stiles didn't understand how anyone could deep-throat. When Chris' admittedly thick cock came to the back of his mouth it seemed too crowded to ever go any further. Stiles, feeling confident and safe, wanted to experiment. He'd never done it before but he'd certainly watched a lot of porn and he just wanted a taste of what it felt like._ _

__On the next sinking down on Chris' cock he kept going even as the pressure from Chris' hand stopped. He could feel the head was between his tonsils and Stiles swallowed, trying to see if there was any more space for him. He took a breath and relaxed and Chris' cock moved forward another half-inch, the head poking at the spot where Stiles' throat hurt when he had a cold. Stiles waited to gag but there was nothing. Maybe Chris' cock had to be further back and this didn't count?_ _

__“Jesus, fuck, sweetheart, Mary, Mother, of, Christ, pissing, fuck,” Chris babbled. Both of his hands were pressed to the wall either said of him as if he'd been chained._ _

__Stiles looked up at him, realising Chris' pubic hair was right in front of his nose. Stiles drew back, coughing slightly, and then drew forward again._ _

__“ _Oh my god I'm going to hell _,” Chris gasped as Stiles swallowed Chris past his tonsils again and pushed forward further, touching wiry pubic hair with the tip of his nose and then bumping the skin beneath it.___ _

____Stiles drew back entirely, smiling proudly up at Chris. “Is that good?”_ _ _ _

____“You're going to kill me,” Chris muttered to himself. “Baby,” he asked, “Will you suck me 'til I come, just like you were doing before? Could you do that for me?”_ _ _ _

____Stiles nodded. He felt a bit high from Alpha pheromones. He'd do anything for the Alpha taking such good care of him._ _ _ _

____“Okay good. Can I guide you a little bit, like I was doing before?” Chris asked softly._ _ _ _

____Stiles nodded, licking his lips before sliding Chris' head back into his mouth. Chris gently put both hands on Stiles' head and started moving him back and forwards, starting real slow and shallow._ _ _ _

____“Just like that,” Chris murmured. “So good. Let me know if it's too much.”_ _ _ _

____Stiles concentrated on trying to keep his teeth sheathed, letting Chris set the speed and depth as it sped up slightly, Stiles now taking half of him._ _ _ _

____When Stiles was sucking about ¾ of the way down Chris' stem Chris caught his attention, “If you can suck as hard as you can, right here, can you feel how the skin's different?” The skin seemed a bit saggier, maybe, but rougher. “This is where my knot is when I grow one. If you just keep doing, just like that. Yeah. And move forward a bit, and then lick it with your tongue. Hard as you can, baby.”_ _ _ _

____Stiles was like that, mouth over where Chris' knot would be when it started to fill out. The skin became tighter and it pushed down more firmly on his tongue. Stiles looked up as far as he could but Chris had his head thrown back and seemed to be furiously mouthing words._ _ _ _

____Stiles moved back, massaging the lightly swollen mass with his lips roughly, then leaning forward again to move his tongue against it._ _ _ _

____“Wait,” Chris gasped, “I think-”_ _ _ _

____Stiles looked up at him._ _ _ _

____“I think my knot might be-”_ _ _ _

____Stiles sucked in response, feeling the knot starting to fill his mouth properly like an over-sized lollipop._ _ _ _

____“Ah, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Chris put his hands on Stiles' head again and tried to guide him back._ _ _ _

____Stiles' pheromone-addled brain ignored him. He'd worked for this, he'd earned it, he was finally going to get what he'd wanted for years. At each gentle tug on his hair or ears Stiles sucked harder. A sweaty palm covered Stiles' forehead and pushed against him, trying to push him back._ _ _ _

____“Baby, you have to get off, I'm going to knot.”_ _ _ _

____Stiles frowned. Did Chris think he didn't understand that? Yeah, Chris was going to knot. Inside Stiles, exactly where Stiles wanted him. It wasn't ideal being in his mouth, but anything was better than nothing and Stiles was done with nothing._ _ _ _

____Stiles gripped the back of Chris' thighs, using him as an anchor to try and get Chris deeper._ _ _ _

____Chris was beyond all intelligent thought, chanting swears and trying to delicately pry Stiles off. He'd almost swollen to the point where any future attempts to remove Stiles would be futile when there was a knock on the door._ _ _ _

____“I've been sent by the powers that be to check up on you and our darling Omega,” Peter shouted through the door._ _ _ _

____Chris could reach the lock by stretching out one hand. “Are there any cameras with you?” he yelled._ _ _ _

____“One.”_ _ _ _

____“Tell them to fuck off and I'll let you in,” Chris shouted._ _ _ _

____After a moment during which Chris tried pleading with Stiles to back off while pushing on Stiles' shoulders, “It's going to knot your mouth, sweetheart, you don't understand what that means, you don't want that, ease off, baby, please.”, Peter returned._ _ _ _

____“I'm alone,” Peter shouted._ _ _ _

____Chris looked between the door and Stiles frantically, wiping the back of his wrist across his forehead. “Alright,” he muttered. He stretched out and unlocked the door. “Come in quick and shut the door behind you,” Chris hollered._ _ _ _

____Peter took the instruction seriously, darting in and shutting the door behind him._ _ _ _

____“Lock it!” hissed Chris._ _ _ _

____For once Peter seemed at a loss for words._ _ _ _

____“Ive got-” Peter started._ _ _ _

____“You've got to help me,” Chris said. “He-”_ _ _ _

____“My mic's still on,” Peter said, quickly rushing to shut it off. “And I've been told to tell you two to turn yours back on, but, well...”_ _ _ _

____“He won't get off of me,” Chris said._ _ _ _

____“Why not?” Peter asked, kneeling next to Stiles. “What are you up to, darling?”_ _ _ _

____“I'm knotting and he won't get off and he doesn't understand,” breathed Chris. “Help me get him off of me.”_ _ _ _

____“What a wonderful problem to have,” Peter laughed._ _ _ _

____“I'm serious,” Chris snapped. “Act like an Alpha and help me. He's acting like he's in Heat.”_ _ _ _

____“He can't be in Heat,” Peter murmured. “Stiles? Take that thing out of your mouth. You have no idea where it's been.”_ _ _ _

____“Hey!” scowled Chris._ _ _ _

____“Mo,” Stiles garbled around the knot which was code for 'no'._ _ _ _

____“I'm going to push, you pull,” Chris ordered. “But I don't want to hurt him.”_ _ _ _

____Peter snickered. “Worry about yourself.”_ _ _ _

____Chris pushed Stiles' head while Peter tugged on his shoulders but the knot had grown too large and Stiles let Chris realise that by allowing them to move him and for Chris to feel Stile's teeth digging into the knot._ _ _ _

____“Ouch, stop, stop. It's too late. It's happened.”_ _ _ _

____“Well relax then and enjoy the inevitable.”_ _ _ _

____“He's never been orally knotted before – he's never been knotted before at all, for goodness sake, and now -”_ _ _ _

____Peter chuckled. “Stiles is a clever boy. I'm sure he just needs it explained to him.” Peter knelt behind Stiles and leant forward to breath directly into Stiles' ear. “You know what happens normally when someone gets knotted, don't you? The knot swells and last for ten to thirty minutes. And the Alpha cums more than they would regularly. You know that, don't you?”_ _ _ _

____Stiles nodded slightly._ _ _ _

____“Well that's what's going to happen now. Chris is going to cum sooner or later and with his knot stuck in your mouth it's going to stay there for a good chunk of time and you're going to have swallow every drop of all that cum that's going to come pouring out.” Peter affectionately stroked Stiles' hair away from his face before the hand dropped, massaging Stiles' lightly swollen cheek._ _ _ _

____“Why haven't you cum yet?” Peter asked Chris._ _ _ _

____“I'm trying not to!” Chris snapped._ _ _ _

____“You've knotted. It won't go down without an orgasm.” Peter sniffed at Stiles. “He does smell... sluttier than normal. Maybe he's in a mini-Heat? Alphas don't normally knot outside of Ruts and Heats.”_ _ _ _

____“I know that!” Chris growled. “That's why I wasn't expecting it and this happened.”_ _ _ _

____“Well you gotta hurry up and cum so we can leave before they bring out a battering ram,” Peter said._ _ _ _

____“Well that's helpful.”_ _ _ _

____Stiles tried to say something and Chris winced as his teeth scraped the knot._ _ _ _

____“Sowwae,” Stiles garbled._ _ _ _

____“You've got to help Chris cum,” Peter told Stiles in a teacherly-fashion. “But just be prepared he'll probably get even bigger and you've got to swallow or you might choke. Ready?” he asked cheerfully._ _ _ _

____Stiles nodded, starting to suck as best he could on the knot, saliva dripping from his open mouth._ _ _ _

____Chris contorted like he'd been electrocuted. “Fuck!”_ _ _ _

____“That's it.” Peter settled himself more comfortably behind Stiles, reaching down and around to unbutton and unzip Stiles' fly._ _ _ _

____“What are you doing?” Chris panted._ _ _ _

____“I'm helping,” Peter said as he took hold of Stile's erection._ _ _ _

____“That is MY Omega. Hands off,” growled Chris._ _ _ _

____“And what are you going to do about it?” Peter taunted, spitting into his hand before putting it back down._ _ _ _

____“Hands off,” Chris growled and it was so animalistic Stiles thought he could feel it reverberating through his chest from his throat through the knot._ _ _ _

____“I'm helping. You wanted help, you let me in here. Omega pheromones will help it all be over faster, and we want Stiles relaxed, don't we?” Peter glared up at Chris from where he was crouched behind Stiles. “You can hardly get him off in that position, can you? Beside, Uncle Peter knows what he likes, don't I, precious?” as he moved his hands over Stiles in a way that made his eyes roll back in his head._ _ _ _

____“You've done this to him before, haven't you?” Chris accused._ _ _ _

____“Relax, Alpha,” Peter taunted, “Concentrate on the Omega. I'm doing what's best for him. Are you?”_ _ _ _

____Stiles whined as he felt Chris grow even bigger somehow. The knot was pressing against his palate, teeth and tongue so he could barely suck. He felt like an entire apple was wedged inside his mouth._ _ _ _

____“Stiles, baby, I'm going to try to get you deeper on my cock, alright?”_ _ _ _

____“Why?” asked Peter, voicing what Stiles was thinking._ _ _ _

____“My head is at the back of his mouth. If I can get it down his throat when I cum he won't have to swallow.”_ _ _ _

____Stiles squirmed at that. The idea of having no choice whether he swallows or not – bring forced to take the ejaculate straight down to his insides – he was going to cum himself. Stiles whimpered, trying to bring attention to his impending orgasm._ _ _ _

____“It's alright baby, this won't hurt,” Chris soothed, “You took me into your throat so well earlier.”_ _ _ _

____“Did he?”_ _ _ _

____“I think he doesn't have the gene for the gag reflex,” Chris explained, hands coming around to cup the back of Stiles' neck, brushing past Peter's face._ _ _ _

____“Some Omegas don't,” mused Peter. “Well then, this'll be a piece of cake.”_ _ _ _

____Stiles did in fact gag a little as Chris resumed his earlier activity of trying to move Stiles on his cock only this time it was the opposite direction._ _ _ _

____Stiles didn't mind the idea of taking the knot further there just wasn't anywhere for it to go. Chris and Peter had to almost lift and shove him forwards, sliding the knot from the front of his mouth to the middle. Stiles could feel the cock pulsing this time like a panicked animal as it entered his throat and tickled the back of it. Stiles coughed a little, wheezing in a breath._ _ _ _

____“Sh, swallow and breathe through your nose,” Peter commanded. “Is he in position?” Peter asked, cupping the outside of Stiles' throat as if to feel for it by hand._ _ _ _

____“Yeah, that should do it.” Chris was sweating like crazy. His dress shirt underneath his jacket was soaked._ _ _ _

____“Stop fighting it, Chris. It's got to happen.” Peter clicked his tongue. “Don't torture yourself, that's what I'm for. Okay darling, we're going to help Chris cum now okay? You're going to cum and let him smell all those happy Omega pheromones.”_ _ _ _

____Stiles moaned which in turn made Chris moan as Peter started stroking him hard. With his other hand Peter rolled Stiles' balls before sliding back to massage his perineum. “Don't be selfish, cum for your Alphas,” Peter goaded. He slid a finger further back to circle Stiles' hole. “I think he is in a minor Heat,” Peter commented. “He's slightly wet.”_ _ _ _

____“Is he? Fuck.”_ _ _ _

____“Only slightly,” Peter said, jerking Stiles. “He's close,” Peter reported to Chris. Stiles could smell Peter's cologne and Alpha scent at the same time smelling Chris and the two Alphas, both aroused, so close to him was sending him crazy._ _ _ _

____“Aw fuck, oh fuck, he's beautiful,” Chris moaned. “I'm going to knot your for real one day, Stiles, and then you- fucking -” Chris gasped as Stiles keened and came. Stiles desperately watched Chris' face, saw how his nostrils flared and then Chris' knot started pulsing._ _ _ _

____“Is it happening?” Peter whispered to Stiles. Stiles could only reflexively swallow in time with the knot pulsing as liquid poured down his throat. It was an odd feeling to have liquid trickling in one part of his digestion system but not the usual starting place of the sensation, warm enough to feel in his oesophagus._ _ _ _

____“God he smells good,” growled Chris, hands instinctively pawing at Stile's hair._ _ _ _

____“You do smell so good,” Peter moaned, inhaling the side of Stiles' neck._ _ _ _

____“Mine,” snarled Chris._ _ _ _

____Instead of a snappy response this time Peter growled back. No words, just noise._ _ _ _

____Inside Stiles' brain that caused a sliver of panic. If the Alphas decided to fight with Stiles in his current position, well, it wouldn't end well for him. He whimpered loudly to get their attention off each other and back on him._ _ _ _

____“Shush, shush, it's okay, it'll be over soon,” Chris murmured to Stiles as Peter petted him soothingly._ _ _ _

____“I thought if you were going to be sucking anyone's dick it might have been mine,” Peter commented in Stiles' ear. He moved closer and whispered, “I think you might owe me one, precious.”_ _ _ _

____Stiles groaned. His main flush of arousal had left his body with his ejaculation. Now his jaw hurt with how wide his mouth was wedged open and his knees hurt from kneeling on the rough floor._ _ _ _

____“You got yourself into this mess, you can suffer through it,” Peter commented lightly._ _ _ _

____There was banging on the door and Stiles flinched, Chris hissing at the motion._ _ _ _

____“Peter,” Lydia shouted through, “You promised to bring them out! What is happening!?”_ _ _ _

____Peter chuckled. “Should I tell them?”_ _ _ _

____Chris growled and Stiles whined._ _ _ _

____“Sh, I won't,” Peter soothed, continuing to rub his hands up and down Stiles' sides, pressing a kiss to Stiles' neck. “I promise not to tell but I have no idea how everyone won' notice Chris's scent all over you.”_ _ _ _

____“There's a basin,” Chris nodded at the sink. He tensed as another pulse of orgasm shot through him._ _ _ _

____“There's no soap,” Peter said. “Our little virgin Omega,” Peter taunted, “Although I suppose technically...” Peter's hand slid down in a glide between Stiles' buttcheeks, “You are technically a virgin still, depending on the definition. Our little knotted virgin.” Peter laughed._ _ _ _

____“What the fuck are you talking about?” Chris muttered._ _ _ _

____“Come out now, all of you,” Lydia commanded, “Or we're coming in.”_ _ _ _

____“Don't over-react, Stiles is fine,” Peter called back._ _ _ _

____“Stiles, are you okay?” Lydia called, and dammit, she sounded genuinely worried._ _ _ _

____“He's fine,” Chris called back._ _ _ _

____“Why isn't he answering?” Lydia shouted._ _ _ _

____“His mouth is full,” Peter cackled, not loudly enough to be heard._ _ _ _

____Chris swore. “Ten minutes. We'll be out in ten minutes.”_ _ _ _

____“Stiles?” Lydia called out._ _ _ _

____Stiles moaned around the knot. This wasn't fun anymore._ _ _ _

____“Shit, we gotta get him off,” Chris said._ _ _ _

____“How?”_ _ _ _

____“If I can get my knot down faster...”_ _ _ _

____“How?”_ _ _ _

____“That's not helping, Peter!”_ _ _ _

____Stiles felt Peter shrug behind him. “It's your idea.”_ _ _ _

____“Baby,” Chris touched Stiles under the chin to bring his gaze up. “I'm going to try to stimulate my knot more, alright?”_ _ _ _

____Stiles didn't understand what that meant. He couldn't even move his tongue properly to lick it._ _ _ _

____Apparently Chris meant he was going to try to fuck Stiles' mouth with it, dragging it back and forth across his tongue._ _ _ _

____“Is it working?” Peter asked._ _ _ _

____“Slightly. It just isn't really moving, his mouth's too full.”_ _ _ _

____Peter sighed heavily. “Can we try and pull it out?”_ _ _ _

____“If it was your dick would you be asking that?”_ _ _ _

____Stiles felt like a malfunctioning sextoy with the way Chris and Peter were speaking about him and not to him. He hollowed his cheeks as best he could and moved his hands up to try and massage Chris' balls based on feel alone._ _ _ _

____“Ah, that's good,” Chris grunted, nodding permission to keep going. “Softer.”_ _ _ _

____After a minute Chris hissed, “I think it's going down.”_ _ _ _

____“How long will it take?”_ _ _ _

____“I have a big knot, it'll take a while.”_ _ _ _

____Peter scoffed. “Poor you and your gigantic knot.”_ _ _ _

____“You're just jealous because I knotted him first.”_ _ _ _

____That comment just re-initiated the growling contest. Stiles rolled his eyes._ _ _ _

____“He's got a big mouth,” Peter eventually commented, “It won't be long.”_ _ _ _

____It was another minute or two before Chris tried moving his knot to the edge of Stiles' teeth to see how they were doing._ _ _ _

____“Open as wide as you can.”_ _ _ _

____Stiles did, eyes squeezed shut, corners of his mouth feeling like they might tear._ _ _ _

____With a pained hiss Chris gripped his shaft and tried to tug it out. “Its still too big.”_ _ _ _

____All three of them froze at the sound of a key in the door._ _ _ _

____“They have a key?” Chris panted._ _ _ _

____“Of course they have a fucking key!” Peter hissed as he stood and wedged his shoulder against the door. “What do you think happens if someone dies of a heart attack in here? They just brick it up and start a new -”_ _ _ _

____Stiles grunted and whined, panicking. The door opened a sliver and Peter shoved it shut again._ _ _ _

____“Okay, baby, relax for me, alright, mouth as open as possible, alright?”_ _ _ _

____Stiles winced as Chris inserted his thumbs either side of his knot between Stiles' lips to help coax his jaw wider. It was as wide as possible! He wasn't trying to keep the knot in on purpose! Okay, maybe he head earlier, that was different. This sucked. He wanted it out._ _ _ _

____With a groan Chris yanked his knot out from between Stiles' teeth, immediately dropping to his knees, hands cupping his genitals._ _ _ _

____“Get your pants up!” Peter hissed as he slammed the door shut again._ _ _ _

____Stiles looked down and saw that included himself. A small pool of his cum was between his knees where Peter had jerked him off. Stiles was fumbling with his pants so badly, so panicked, the material so different to what he was used to, that Chris ended up helping him after finishing his own pants._ _ _ _

____With a huff Peter stepped back from the door and it flung open. Several of the crew had been on the other side, trying to force it open._ _ _ _

____“Stiles? Stiles!?” Lydia called, forcing her way between people to get in the room. “Are you okay?”_ _ _ _

____Chris had dragged him to his feet. Stiles wiped his chin where he could feel saliva cooling. It must have smelt like an orgy in the confined room._ _ _ _

____“Yeah, I'm fine,” Stiles said. His voice was hoarse and he couldn't catch his breath._ _ _ _

____Lydia immediately frowned. “What the fuck do you think you're doing? Going into a Rut room with an Alpha!” Lydia grabbed Stiles' hands. “Did you not know? Did Chris trick you in here?”_ _ _ _

____“No, of course not,” Stiles scoffed, hoping she couldn't smell his breath._ _ _ _

____“You don't have to lie, you can tell me if anything happened, it's alright.” Lydia lead Stiles out of the room by his hand, hissing at people to move out of the doorway._ _ _ _

____They ended up in the sitting room with tea and coffee and snacks being brought up._ _ _ _

____“You can tell me what happened. We can get a specialist in here if you want to talk to someone,” Lydia was saying, hands clasped between her knees which were tightly shut._ _ _ _

____“Nothing happened,” Stiles shook his head._ _ _ _

____“I have a nose, Stiles, I have eyes. Something happened. Maybe it was consensual, maybe it wasn't, but don't lie to me!” Lydia shut her eyes and took a deep breath. “We can wait until tomorrow. Sometimes people feel differently after they've had time to think about things.”_ _ _ _

____“It wasn't-”_ _ _ _

____“Stop it, Stiles. Come on. Don't play stupid. Maybe everything is fine and dandy but imagine if it wasn't. I sent Peter in there to find out what was happening, that was my decision, because Chris didn't seem dangerous and if anything was happening we thought Peter would be jealous and stop it, we thought you'd be more likely to let him in after you were up-set. And then nothing! And then you were in a locked room with two Alphas and you weren't even responding for AGES, we had no audio, and I thought ever worst thing had happened!”_ _ _ _

____Stiles felt terrible, looking at Lydia who seemed near tears. “It didn't. It could have, but it didn't. I trust both of them.”_ _ _ _

____Lydia wiped at her eyes carefully to avoid her mascara. “See you how you feel tomorrow.”_ _ _ _

____“What about the-”_ _ _ _

____“The selection ceremony? We have to wait and see. If you decide maybe something did happen that you were uncomfortable with then there won't be a selection ceremony, we'll call the authorities and that person will be removed from the house, no ceremony needed.”_ _ _ _

____As Stiles was chauffeured back to his grannyflat he felt oddly numb. A PA was driving, Lydia had been too up-set to spend more time with him._ _ _ _

____Everything felt fantastical. He'd met someone he liked and spent... half an hour? in a room with them by themselves and people were acting like it was the end of the world. Stiles could see so clearly what Lydia's perspective was, could see how easily that could have happened in a previous season with other contestants. Lydia's discomfort seemed too real to not be drawing from experience._ _ _ _

____And yet, if he'd met someone he liked at a party and gone to a private room with them to give them a bj out in the real world... it would be no big deal._ _ _ _

____Stiles watched his grannyflat grow larger. His 'conversations' with Derek and Laura seemed to have happened a week ago with how much had happened since then._ _ _ _

____ _ _

____~~~_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____The next day he was taken to a meeting room he'd never been in before. It occupied what might have been a study. Stiles was sat down at the end of the table with Lydia, Braeden (Chris' producer) and Jackson (Peter's) with several members of crew standing against the wall. Earlier Stiles had spoken with Deaton, no cameras, and a lawyer who had told Stiles he would believe anything he told him._ _ _ _

____The screen on the other side of the room lit up and Finstock was sitting there._ _ _ _

____“What's all this delay in filming? I got told he,” Finstock pointed roughly in Stiles' direction, “got raped. That's all we need.”_ _ _ _

____“Not raped, they all say it was consensual even if details are... fuzzy,” Lydia explained, “but out star was out of contact for an extended period of time with two Alpha contestants and clearly had sexual relations with at least on of them.”_ _ _ _

____“You took on two Alphas at once?” Finstock whistled. “Shame we've already marketed you as a the virgin county bumpkin, hey?”_ _ _ _

____Stiles turned bright red and couldn't think of anything to say._ _ _ _

____Finstock waved his hands around. “If they all say it was consensual what's the problem? What's the hold-up? It doesn't matter if we didn't get footage if we can't use it in our storyline.”_ _ _ _

____“We just had to check it was consensual after Stiles had some time to think, the procedure is to wait 24 hours and check again-” Lydia began._ _ _ _

____“I know what the procedure is!” Finstock yelled. “Don't quote the procedure at me, young lady. Who are you?” Finstock moved closer to the webcam and squinted. “Who are you?”_ _ _ _

____“I am Lydia Martin, I'm Stiles' Producer.”_ _ _ _

____“So it was YOU who failed your duties so badly our innocent Omega ended up in a Rut room with two Alphas, huh? You're responsible for what happened? You must be a lousy fucking producer, huh?”_ _ _ _

____Lydia flushed and didn't respond._ _ _ _

____“Look,” Finstock said, suddenly calm, “look at it this way. If an Alpha in an Alpha season ended up in a room with two Omegas we wouldn't be getting our panties in a twist over his virtue, would we? We'd think he could handle himself. Isn't this all a little bit of a...” Finstock waved his hand dismissively, “double standard?”_ _ _ _

____“Well, I don't think so-” Lydia started._ _ _ _

____“If Stiles says it was consensual I think we should have enough respect to believe him. We don't need to baby him just because he's an Omega,” Finstock said._ _ _ _

____Stiles' chest loosened._ _ _ _

____“And if,” Finstock said, looking straight at Stiles, “our Omega did wander off into a situation it turned out he couldn't handle, well, he'd understand that was his fault for making risky choices, huh?”_ _ _ _

____Stiles' blood turned to ice. He was suddenly very grateful for Lydia's protectiveness and mistaken reaction._ _ _ _

____“Anything that happened was consensual,” Stiles said, “I can keep working with Chris and Peter. Thank you for... taking good care of me,” he directed at Lydia. “I appreciate it in case something had gone wrong.”_ _ _ _

____“But nothing did!” Finstock said in his typical talk-shout. “So get back on track for filming and stop wasting my fucking time and the network's fucking money.”_ _ _ _

____“Yes, sir,” Lydia said._ _ _ _

____The call cut off, the screen going blank again._ _ _ _

____“Jesus Christ,” Stiles muttered to Lydia as people began to leave the room._ _ _ _

____Lydia's lips tightened. “Are you sure you're okay? You want to keep filming? This is the last time I ask.”_ _ _ _

____“I-” Stile stopped and thought for a moment. “If I feel not okay about the show, it has nothing to do with what happened with Chris and Peter.”_ _ _ _

____Lydia frowned, bemused, but nodded. “Fine. Selection ceremony will shoot tonight. We'll pretend nothing happened.”_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____~~~_ _ _ _

____ _ _

____And that's exactly what happened. Stiles was re-dressed in the same outfit, cum sand sweat stains having noticeably been cleaned away in the last 24 hours, and photos were used from the footage last night to do his hair._ _ _ _

____“Can I talk to them before the ceremony?” Stiles asked Jackson as he was lead to the selection ceremony gaudy doors._ _ _ _

____“The time to talk to contestants, and only talk, was last night. If you wasted that opportunity, that's on you,” Jackson answered._ _ _ _

____Stiles sighed. As he was looking at the double doors, waiting for the signal to enter, he suddenly remembered; he'd been going to get rid of Derek. They'd made up. Laura had a rose. Who was he getting rid of now?_ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know thoughts and theories! What are you guys thinking?


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